LIBRARY OF CONG™ 




THE 

Butte m ^f jfliif n $ 

Civil, Moral, Religious, and Domestics 

FROM THEIR 

FIRST ENTRANCE INTO MATURE YEARS, 

TO THE 

TKOBT ADVANCED PERIODS OF LIFE. 

WITH DIRECTIONS AS TO 

LOVE, COURTSHIP, AND MARRIAGE; 
WIDOWHOOD, fcfc. 

WRITTEN BY A CLERGYMAN, 



."FllST AMERICAH FROM THE iOSTDOK EDITION 

1823. 



THE 

WHOLE DUTIES 



OP 



t 



IN TWO PARTS, 



WITH AN 
CONTAINING 

THE POLITE PHILOSOPHER, 

AND 

DR; FRANKLIN'S WAY TO WEALTH. 



GEORGETOWN, D. C. 
PUBLISHED BT J. COMSTOCK, ESQ.. 



1822. 
J, C, Dunn, Printer. 



r<\\ 






\ 






ADVERTISEMENT. 



These Essays were originally pub- 
lished separately in London. Recom- 
mending themselves to the Publisher 
on perusal, he deemed them worthy of 
introduction to the American public, as 
probable^ to contribute in forming the 
characters of our youth, and, by pro- 
moting reflection, to better the condi- 
tion of others. By way of appendix, 
is added The Polite Philosopher, first 
published at Edinburg in 17-34, to the 
value of which two generations have 
subscribed, and ivhich must be held in 
esteem by those to come. To ivhich is 
added a paper that cannot be too often 
read— Dr. Franklin's Way to Wealth; 



IV 



for so important is education, that too 
much can scarcely be said on the sub- 
ject, — nor the means of information too 
much multiplied. 



THE 



WHOLE DUTY OF MEN 



CHAPTER I. 

Reader, it is presumed you are past 
the days of childhood and immature 
youth, and arrived at that period, in 
which it is incumbent on you to think 
and act for yourself, A few words of 
advice on a subject so important may 
not be amiss; and it is the author's ear- 
nest wish, that you may read with at- 
tention this short treatise, which he 
humbly presents for your perusal, with 
the kind intention of reminding you of 
the duties and cares attached to your 
station, both in public and private life. 
We will commence with a few general 
remarks. 
B 



v 



10 WHOLE DUTY 

Every man, however humble his sta- 
tion may be in the world, makes a figure 
in his own eyes, and is too apt to point 
out the faults of others with severity, 
It is certainly right to observe the vari- 
ety of dispositions, tempers, and claims 
of men: but let us pass by human infir- 
mities with a greatness of soul; and b; 
criticising our own actions, fv r e shall 
find reason enough to look with lenit; 
on the weakuess and credulity of others, 
and a monitor whereby to amend our 
own failings. It is an excellent thing 
to keep in mind, that nature wisely fur- 
nished us with two ears, and but one 
tongue; let us hearken to wisdom, and 
speak with deliberation and prudence. 

Be not anxious to learn the secrets 
of others; and be very cautious how you 
make a confidant, and thereby put it 
into the power of a base-minded man 
to betray you, or extort money from 
you by way of purchasing his silence. 
Regard not the misfortunes of others 



OF MEN. 11 

with frigid indifference, lest you meet 
no pity when sorrow oppresses you. 

Remember, that the greatest wisdom 
depends on a serious mind, that the best 
physic is temperance, and the best es- 
tate a guitless conscience; virtue ought 
to be observed with men as well, and 
with as much caution, as women, for it 
is the basis of every good in our mortal 
state, and our hopes of a blessed eter- 
nity. There are virtues of a several 
kind, all amiable and praiseworthy in 
their nature:— Temperance, faith, cha- 
rity, devotion, justice, and generosity; 
in fact, every good quality that renders 
us excellent in ourselves, and valuable 
to others. Modesty in a man's w ords 
and actions is highly commendable; in- 
decent language and obscene allusions, 
betray a man to have a depraved heart, 
and a weak understanding 

Should it reach jour knowledge that 
any one hath spoken ill of you, exa- 
mine the matter without pique or preju- 



i% WHOLE DUTY 

dice, and if you find you have deserved 
the censure, endeavour to amend the 
fault; on the contrary, if you are blam- 
ed innocently, discover no animosity or 
spite, — contempt of scandal causes it to 
expire, but resentment adds fresh fuel 
to the flame. There is no character 
more detestable than that of a drunk- 
ard; the vice of inebrietv has fatal 
effects on the mind, person, and pro- 
perty, of him who is devoted to it; the 
sober man, by the aid of reason, is on 
his guard against every folly that pre- 
sents itself, and the temptation is of no 
avail: but strong drink inflames the sen- 
ses and adds fury to the passions; it 
transforms a good-natured man into an 
ideot, and the choleric one into an as- 
sassin, adding bitterness to resentment, 
and displaying every spot in the mind 
under the most hideous colours of de- 
formity, — wasting the substance, and 
by degrees destroying both the health 
and memory. How bitterly has that 



OF MEN, 13 

man to reflect on himself, — how severe 
must be his remorse, — who, on regain- 
ing his reason, discovers that while un- 
der the influence of inordinate drink, he 
has divulged the dearest or most impor- 
tant secrets of his soul, or been drawn 
into the commission of some act, on 
which he now looks back with unavail- 
ing horror or regret, for it is impossible 
to recall the past. — Such instances are 
daily occurring, and ought to serve as 
an awful warning to others. 

Idleness is a species of palsy to the 
mind, detrimental at once to the person 
and purse, for no trade, profession, or 
calling, can be expected to thrive with- 
out, active diligence and persevere nee: 
dispatch is the very soul of business. 
Man was formed for action, and must 
of course be employed in something: 
and if not engaged in good works, he 
is not secure against the reverse; for the 
best guard against temptation is con- 
stant employment, mental or personal^ 



14 WHOLE DUTY 






for indolence is one of the parents of 
vice. 

The sin of profane swearing admits 
of no excuse or palliation, — it has nei 
their claims to pleasure or profit, as its 
inducement. The swearer appears to 
be vicious purposely for the sake of be 
ing so. In vain doth the swearer plead 
passion or provocation: if a fellow-crea- 
ture offends, God does not; then why 
call on him with imprecations, and take 
his holy name in vain? Alas! how ma- 
ny are there who swear alike in their 
general discourse, whether they are un- 
der the influence of anger or pleasure, 
and call down damnation on themselves 
hourly, out of mere wantonness! Let 
me conjure all those who are thus guil 
ty, to pause awhile, and seriously con- 
sider the enormity of the crime; damna 
tion is too easily obtained for people t 
pray for it; rather let us, on our bendef 
knees, petition heaven hourly agains 
it, and forsake this dangerous presump- 



OF MEN. 15 

tuous sin, — a sin that can only lead to 
perdition! For the Lord, as is expressly 
declared in the third commandment, 
will not hold him guiltless, that taketh 
his name in vain. 

Avoid falsehood, — it is a dangerous 
sin, and the bane of society; while truth 
is the band of union and concord, the 
basis of human happiness and mortal 
security. Without mutual faith and 
truth, there can be no confidence or true 
friendship; no security in promises, or 
reliance on an oath. The word of a 
truly honest man is held by him as a 
sacred bond, and he would sooner sub- 
mit himself to any inconvenience or loss 
than break a given promise. Truth is 
always plain, easy, and consistent, and 
requires no rhetoric or eloquence to aid 
its progress; it is solid, unvarnished, 
and yet impressive. On the contrary, 
a falsehood is troublesome to the inven- 
tor: and he who tells a lie is not ' t first 
aware how heavy a task he lias impos- 



|6 WHOLE DUTY 

ed on himself; for to maintain the ap^ 
pearance of truth, it is more than proba- 
ble that he will be obliged to have re- 
course to a variety of other falsehoods, 
as nothing is more common than that 
one lie should prove the prolific parent 
of twenty more. A just and faithful 
man will abound in blessings, and the 
love and respect of his fellow creatures 
will attend his steps; but woe attends 
the false witness and the detailer of 
scandal, whose tongue is more sharp 
(for a season) than a two-edged sword: 
but only a season; for sooner or later 
their treachery is discovered, and they 
meet with merited contempt and hatred. 
A just Grod will not suffer them to pros- 
per forever in their iniquity. 

A steady, even temper is a great 
blessing to the possessor; an angry man 
defeats his own cause, and loses the 
advantage cool and impartial argument 
might give him over his adversary; ma- 
ny are the acts committed in a moment 



OF MEN. 17 

of enfrenzied rage, which years of pe- 
nitence cannot atone for. Is not mur- 
der, the most weighty of all crimes, the 
frequent result of ungoverned passion? 
It can never be too much guarded 
against, for it is a monster that deforms 
the fair face of human nature into an 
hideous and terrific aspect; it is far bet- 
ter to combat with an armed force, than 
expose yourself to the infuriated pas- 
sions of the human mind. 

What an example of meekness and 
resignation does the> blessed life of our 
Saviour afford us, — how free from eve- 
ry blemish to which our depraved na- 
ture is liable! Though perfection is 
not the lot of human nature, yet there 
are many evils, infirmities, and failings, 
which might, with a little reflection, be 
avoided, and the conscience kept clear 
from unavailing remorse. 



18 WHOLE DUTY 

CHAPTER II; 

Trade, Commerce, and Manufactures. 

The principles of moral obligations, 
which may be obviously applied to man 
in the above situations, are first to 
be treated on. The leading purposes 
which trade, commerce, and indeed al- 
most every profession seem destined to 
answer, is to sharpen the inventive in- 
dustry of man, and unite the whole hu- 
man race in the bonds of amicable con- 
nections; to augment their comforts, and 
relieve their wants, by an interchange 
of commodities; to open a way for the 
progress of civilization, extension of 
Christianity, and diffusion of science and 
learning; and, finally, to increase gene- 
ral happiness on earth. No man stands 
authorised in the sight of his creator, to 
enter into or continue in any species of 
traffic or business, which is in itself un- 



OF MEN. 19 

just, immoral, or unlawful; every trader 
is also bound, in following his own oc- 
cupation, to extend his views beyond 
his own emolument or advantage, and 
not only to pursue it with strict integri- 
ty, but to endeavour to conduct it on 
such principles as may advance the 
comforts of his dependants, neighbours, 
and countrymen. He that is engaged 
in trade has, in general, to contend with 
a multitude of competitors; but let the 
competition be open, free, and amica- 
ble: avoid all malevolence and under- 
handed work; do not depreciate the 
skill, character, or credit of a rival; but 
use laudable efforts to obtain a pre-emi- 
nence, by superior vigilance, industry, 
and attention; and endeavour to meet 
the wishes and suit the convenience of 
your customers or employers. 

It may perhaps be deemed superflu- 
ous to admonish the trader to practise 
common honesty: but it is less so than 
it may seem; for there are individuals 



20 WHOLE DUTY 

in the trading world destitute of moral 
rectitude and principle, notwithstand- 
ing that honesty is the best policy of 
human life. 

Frugality is recommended to the 
tradesman, not as implying parsimoni- 
ous meanness, or to check the workings 
of real benevolence: but to check osten- 
tatious splendour, or vicious extrava- 
gance, — failings that often lead a man 
to bankruptcy and ruin, thus not only 
risking and expending his own proper- 
ty, but that (as is too often the case) of 
others. Live under vour income, and 
guard against an excess by keeping a 
regular account of your expenses. Ne- 
ver, in your dealings, take advantage 
of the ignorant, nor the unwary by 
surprise. 

It is one of the best duties of a trades- 
man to keep accurate accounts, and, by 
frequent and steady inspections, to be 
at all times master of his affairs. If he 
perceives them at any time to have a 



OF MEN. gl 

disastrous aspect, let him not overrate 
his resources, the goodness of his hook 
debts, or the probable sale and produce 
of any of his merchandise, commodities, 
or manufacture; and strictly beware of 
using any dishonourable means, such 
as taking deposits, or gaining loans 
from those unconscious of your situa- 
tion. Display a mind superior to the 
suggestions of false shame, and act ac- 
cording to what is strictly just: Assem- 
ble all those to whom you are indebted, 
and lay before them a true statement of 
your past transactions in trade, your 
present difficulties, and your future 
prospects; if you should be conscious 
that immediate bankruptcy must be the 
result of such disclosure, shrink not on 
that account; consider that by stopping 
fairly at once, you may get a complete 
discharge from your debts, sustain the 
character of an honest man, and by the 
generous confidence of your former cre- 
ditors, re-commence business under the 



WHOLE DUTY 



most favourable auspices: whereas, on 
the contrary, an attempt to stand your 
ground, and retrieve your affairs, with- 
out a solid foundation to act on, may 
involve you in disgrace and poverty for 
the remainder of your days. Be cau- 
tious not to infringe on the duties of the 
sabbath, — make it not a mere day o 
pleasure and conviviality: a strict atten- 
tion to the due rites of religion on the 
seventh day, will promote your happi- 
ness here and hereafter, and learn you 
to lay up treasure in heaven. 

Be careful how you enter into part- 
nership. Reflect that a careless, igno- 
rant, or too adventurous man, may lead 
you into ruin, as you must be responsi- 
ble to a certain degree, both for his ac- 
tions and your own; on the contrary, a 
partner who is active, honest, and well 
informed in the branch of merchandize 
or manufacture in which vou are en- 
gaged, may be to you a continual source 
of pleasure, profit, and amity. Jf you 



OF MEN. 23 

should have apprentices under your 
care and tuition, be careful that you 
fulfil every duty, both religious and 
moral, towards them: and behave to 
them in a manner that will engage their 
love and fear. Let your commands be 
given with a necessary firmness, and 
take care that they are obeyed: but let 
those commands be consistent with rea- 
son, justice, and humanity; — tyranny 
is impolitic, and causes a man to be 
hated. Be careful of the health and 
morals of your apprentice; see that he 
attends divine service in an orderly and 
regular manner; and in your person, 
and the persons of your family, mind 
that a good example is set him, or he 
will not value your advice. Warn him 
of the importance of proper associa- 
tions, and take every possible care to 
restrain him from bad and immoral 
company; observe that they apply dili- 
gently to the duties of their profession 
or calling, and that they become in due 



24 WHOLE DUTY 

time masters of those branches of trade^ 
and the secrets thereof, in which you 
are bound to instruct them. Attend to 
their health and comfort with a paren- 
tal eye, and allow them those recrea- 
tions necessary to the mind and body, 
thus ensuring their love, duty, respect, 
and gratitude. If they have any cause 
of complaint, listen to their statement 
with mildness and attention: if it is well 
grounded, remove the cause if possible; 
but if you find the grievance to be a 
supposed one, arising from folly or mis- 
taken notions, argue with them on the 
subject, and endeavour to open their 
eyes to the weakness of which they 
are guilty. 

If you are so unfortunate as to have 
an apprentice given to vicious habits, 
deaf to your admonitions, and refracto- 
ry to every step you take for his bene- 
fit, the laws of your country will free 
you from so weighty an incumbrance; 
but let this be done in a fair, candid, 






OF MEN. 25 

and generous manner, with the know- 
ledge of the youth's friends. 

In regard to the probity of your deal- 
ings in trade, be scrupulously observ- 
ing of every engagement, verbal as well 
as written; and guard against making 
any promises, that you have not a fair 
prospect of ratifying: do not engage in 
speculations that are too adventurous 
for your capital, remember that the fair- 
est prospects are too often blighted, and 
reflect on the ruin and misery that must 
ensue to yourself and family, on your 
being plunged in the depths of misfor- 
tune. It is a truth that requires serious 
consideration, that through imprudence, 
rashness, and credulity, and the conse- 
quent distress it entailed on them, num- 
bers have been urged to deceit, disho- 
nesty, and fraud, who before felt proud- 
ly confident in their own integrity, and 
maintained an unblemished reputation. 

If it uas pleased (rod to place you 
in a trade or manufacture of such ex- 



26 WHOLE DUTY 

tent, as to enable you to employ a num- 
ber of workmen, be watchful over their 
health, conduct, and morals, and exhort 
them to habits of sobriety and cleanli- 
ness. Should you have occasion to 
employ persons of different sexes, keep 
them strictly apart, appoint fines for 
drunkenness, swearing and obscene 
language, and take care that it is strict- 
ly observed; — take every measure as 
far it lies in your power to make them 
resort to public worship, and use a pri- 
vate form of prayer. Scrupulously 
abstain from pride among them, and 
convince them you have their interest 
at heart, as well as your own; advance 
them small loans of money in times of 
sickness, accidents, lyings-in, or ap- 
proaching rent days, or any immergen- 
cy that afflicts them; show favour to the 
deserving, and check the lazy, drunk- 
en, and profligate; thus, while you 
are discharging an indispensable duty, 
you will attach these people to your- 



OF MEN. 27 

self, and promote your own emolument; 
a large portion of your work people 
will grow active, industrious, and heal- 
thy; their personal attachment will se- 
cure you from the machinations of un- 
principled competitors, who may be 
base enough to offer them bribes to dis- 
close their master's operations, or to 
leave him for the purpose of entering 
into a rival manufactory. Commerce 
and trade are highly honourable; and, 
when conducted on liberal and just 
principles, redound to the praise of 
every individual employed in them. 



CHAPTER III. 
Courtship, Seduction, Matrimony, £gc. 

In courtship, be honest, upright, and 
sincere; avoid romance, and let every 
action be guided by strict honour and 



28 WHOLE DUTY 

veracity; avoid undue flattery, and en- 
ter into no promises, or engagements, 
but those which you have a strict inten- 
tion to fulfil. A fortune with a wife is 
certainly desirable, in due proportion 
to the situation you hold in society; but 
do not let money or interest be your 
principal consideration: seek for meek- 
ness, virtue, good nature, and a tender 
disposition, in her you would make 
your wife; remember the contract is not 
temporary, but for life, — that she is to 
be the partner of your future days, the 
mother of your offspring, and the joint 
partaker as well of your cares as of 
your pleasures. Woe to that maL who 
woos to his bosom, pride, folly, and 
affectation, and gains a wife who is 
ever on the wing of pleasure, to the 
neglect of her home, her domestic af- 
fairs, and her family. — Where is he to 
seek for consolation, when worldly 
cares oppress him? Such a woman 
will not truly participate in his hours of 



OF MEN. &9 

affliction; and should he be prosperous 
in his undertakings, her extravagance 
will undermine his substance, and turn 
a life that ought to be spent in domestic 
bliss and concord, into daily bickerings 
and aversions. Under such grievous 
circumstances, it too often (yet, we must 
own, naturally) occurs that a man be- 
comes disgusted with his home; his fond 
expectations are blighted; the scenes 
of bliss he had mentally painted, he 
finds cannot be realised, and though he 
commenced the holy state of matrimony 
with the best possible plans, and inten- 
tions of fulfilling all the duties incum- 
bent on the wedded life, in being a 
faithful, tender husband, he by degrees 
degenerates into vicious habits, from 
which he would have once shrunk with 
indignant horror, and becomes the vo- 
tary of a harlot's smile, or the victim of 
inebriety! while his children, if he is 
so unfortunate as to have any, are the 
innocent sufferers of their erring pa- 
rents' mutual misconduct. 



30 WHOLE DUTY 

From the above dreadful portrait of 
what too frequently occurs, in ill-as- 
sorted matches, let a single man be- 
ware how he precipitately alters his 
mode of life; let him consider how im- 
portant to his happiness and prosperity 
is a wise, discreet, and well regulated 
selection of a wife; let him avoid one in 
whom passion overrules the voice of 
reason, or in whom haste allows no 
time for reflection. 

Be not blinded with love, nor let a 
fashionable exterior, gay deportment, 
or a display of modern graces and ac- 
complishments, take too strong a hold 
on your heart; choose a fair one that 
blends the useful with the agreeable; 
one that justly considers there is a sea- 
son for every thing, nor suffers her in- 
nocent amusements and diversions to 
interfere with the duties and employ- 
ments to which her station of life sub- 
jects her. Avoid the flirting coquette, 
and turn with disgust from her who uses 



OF MEN. 31 

indelicate language, or shows delight 
at an unseemly jest. Amiable and 
vastly pleasing is the timid modest vir- 
gin, — she who seeks not admiration, 
who receives the praises and compli- 
ments due to her perfections with rose- 
ate blushes, and the retiring graces of 
real delicacy: no masculine boldness of 
character, no self-sufficiency, is hers: 
she will not give her hand without her 
heart, nor encourage a lover's suit with- 
out the entire approbation of her friends. 
That a female strictly acting the duties 
required of a daughter, is the most 
likely to make a good wife, is a maxim 
justly esteemed, and an excellent pre- 
cedent for young men to be guided by. 
A virtuous woman is a crown of glory 
to her husband, — blest and prosperous 
is the house over which she presides, 
and blessed the man who hath the ho- 
nour and happiness to call her his wife. 
Seduction. — What a catalogue of 
crimes is annexed to the word! — per- 



32 WHOLE DUTY 

jury, lying, fraud, treachery, deception, 
and impiety, as well as cruelty and in- 
justice; nay, even murder itself has 
been the result of this heinous sin. 

Too often has this crime been glossed 
over by the palliating term gallantry, 
and the spoiler triumphs, without re- 
morse in the ruin he has caused, whilst 
the wretched victim of his wishes, de- 
serted both by him and her kindred, 
pines in obscurity, grief, and indigence: 
and not unfrequently an illegitimate 
babe shares in the disgrace and mise- 
ries of its deserted mother, who bathes 
it with her unavailing tears. 

Sometimes the dread intelligence 
reaches our ears, that a deluded female, 
in whom the dread of shame conquers 
the strong pleadings of nature and ma- 
ternal love, becomes a murderess, and 
with her own hand deprives her babe 
of existence! — thus staining her soul 
with a dt ed of the blackest hue, and 
cutting off the hope of mercy. 



OF MEN. 33 

How many victims of seduction have 
rushed unbidden into the presence of 
their Maker! What numbers, once 
the fond pride of their parents' hearts, 
and prop of their existence, roam in 
vice, and eat the guilty bread of loath- 
some prostitution! 

The majority of these unfortunate 
women, there is every reason to pre- 
sume, had they escaped the treacherous 
snare would have been valuable mem- 
bers to society; virtuous, industrious 
wives; tender mothers, and faithful 
friends. 

Let the seducer call to mind the oaths 
he has broken, and the stratagems he 
has had recourse to, in order to lure 
his victim (or victims) into the snare; 
then let him tremble at his vice, and 
remember there is an avenging God, 
from whom we cannot conceal our 
crimes, however we may hide or gloss 
them over in the eyes of the world. It 
is equally certain that a day of awful 



34 WHOLE DUTY 

retribution and punishment will arrive, 
and cause you keenly to feel its power; 
then will the wretches you have plung- 
ed into guilt appear as dreadful wit- 
nesses against you, and aid in your 
perdition. 

Avoid all connection with loose wo- 
men; they are a dreadful snare, and 
lead to iniquity and ruin: their mere- 
tricious conversation is hateful to the 
mind possessing either delicacy or re- 
finement: What pleasure can there be 
in the smile of the hired prostitute? She 
allures but to betray; the end of her 
desires is gain, and her gaiety is as- 
sumed, to cloak her rapaciousness after 
your money: when your purse fails you, 
you become the object of her contempt; 
she can then discover a thousand faults 
in you, and you must give place to a 
wealthier rival. How fatal are the 
stratagems often employed by bad wo- 
men against the unwary. 



OF MEN. 35 

Matrimony is a holy institution, as 
well as a moral and binding engage- 
ment, pleasing in the eyes of God, and 
honourable in the eyes of man. It was 
ordained by our all-wise and just Cre- 
ator, that the two sexes might be a mu- 
tual aid and comfort to each other, and 
still continue in the paths of righteous- 
ness, continence, and faith. 

The next desirable purpose sought in 
matrimony is the continuation of the 
human species, and with it of those ob- 
ligations, which enjoin us with all cau- 
tion and diligence to bring up our off- 
spring in the fear and love of that Be- 
ing, from whom we derive existence 
and every blessing; who even scourges 
us with sorrows and misfortunes for our 
eternal good, that we may know our- 
selves and become acquainted with our 
weakness, proneness to temptations, 
and the various infirmities of human 
nature. 



36 WHOLE DUTY 

We may frequently trace the variety 
of disappointed views and bickerings 
with which the marriage state is often 
clouded, to the haste or improper views 
with which the nuptial engagements of 
the parties were formed. Persons who 
act thus/ need not be surprised at find- 
ing their domestic comforts corroded by 
indifference, discontent, and quarrels: 
nor he who has selected a partner for 
life, without duly considering whether 
there is a similarity of pursuits and 
dispositions, and those intrinsic virtues 
stedfastly grounded on religion; with- 
out which (in an union of such impor- 
tance) no lasting happiness can be ex- 
pected. 

The constitution of nature and the 
human frame, which allots different of- 
fices in life to the different sexes, seems 
clearly to denominate a certain degree 
of subordination to be the duty of the 
female sex, " Wives submit vour- 



OF MEN. 37 

selves unto your husbands, as unto the 
Lord, for the husband is the head of 
the wife, even as Christ is the head of 
the church; therefore, as the church is 
subject unto Christ, so let the wives be 
to their husbands in every thing. — Let 
the wife see that she reverence her hus- 
band." The like commands are given 
in other parts of the New Testament. 
Not that these orders are to be regard- 
ed by the wife as subjecting her to un- 
limited obedience in all things; in any 
case where the commands of her hus- 
band is repugnant to the laws of God, 
or offensive to his fellow creatures, 
compliance would be sinful in the high- 
est degree; but whoever reflects seri- 
ously on the strong manner in which 
obedience is enforced on the wife, will 
be convinced that the cause must be of 
magnitude that justifies her withhold- 
ing it; the gospel, however, has not left 
the wife without security from the ca- 
price or tyranny of the husband: it re- 



38 WHOLE DUTY 

strains him from wantonly abusing the 
power with which he is invested, incul- 
cating the love and tenderness due to 
the partner of his days. 

"Husbands love your wives, even as 
Christ loved the church, and gave him- 
self for it. Husbands love your wives, 
and be not bitter against them. Ye 
husbands dwell with your wives ac- 
cording to knowledge, giving honour 
unto the wife as unto the weaker ves- 
sel." The husband ought at all times 
cheerfully to make any personal sacri- 
fices, that may essentially promote the 
interest and welfare of his wife: he 
ought to behave with that uniform mild- 
ness and tenderness of behaviour, as 
will not only engage her affections, but 
correct her every propensity to weak- 
ness and failing; let him study to give 
every reasonable and prudent gratifica- 
tion to her wishes, let him accustom 
himself to dwell with pleasure on the 
merits and perfections of his wife, and 



OF MEN. 39 

to think with lenity on any defects of 
temper, &c. that he may discover in her; 
let hiin consider his own imperfections 
and infirmities when he reflects on hers, 
and that will keep him from tyranny 
and injustice; and let his example lure 
her to virtue and goodness. 

If he is reduced to the very painful 
necessity of pointing out something re- 
prehensible in his wife's conduct, let 
him avoid taunting expressions, pro- 
vokiug epithets and sneers; let him use 
as little reproach and invective as pos- 
sible, and speak to her in a plain, can- 
did, and ingenuous manner. If married 
persons were to attend with care to the 
obligations imposed on them, and study 
each others dispositions, with a view T of 
avoiding offence either by word or ac- 
; tion, there would not be so many unhap- 
py instances present themselves of se- 
paration, aversion, and disgust. 

It is the duty of every man to secure 
to Ins wife, in case of his death, as am- 



40 WHOLE DUTY 

pie a provision as it is in his power to 
bequeath her, and that settled on her 
in so legal and plain a manner, as not 
to involve her in litigations with envi- 
ous relations, or nndutiful sons; — and 
in this place, though digressing from 
the subject on which we are immediate- 
ly treating, it may not be amiss to sug- 
gest the impropriety of a husband, let 
him have ever so weighty a cause of 
offence against her, to reproach his wife 
in the presence of her children, as it 
lessens her consequence in their eyes, 
and a frequent repetition of it, might 
lead them to treat her with disrespect. 
It is surprising of what exertions a vir- 
tuous woman has proved herself capa- 
ble, in the time of sickness, accideut, or 
imprisonment of her husband, for his 
benefit and that of their children; such 
a woman as this, is a treasure that no 
man can sufficiently prize: she is indeed 
a helpmate, in whom too much confi- 
dence cannot be placed, for wisdom is 



OF MEN. 41 

her guide, and prudent are the dictates 
that fall from her lips; how different 
ought a man to esteem such a v ife, to 
one who is ever engaged in the most 
frivolous pursuits, and her heart cen- 
tred w holly on self-love. 

Adultery is one of those deadly sins 
strictly prohibited by heaven, and just- 
ly abhorred by every human being, who 
is not absolutely lost to every sense of 
shame and feeling. The commission 
of this act is not only grievous to the 
party immediately injured, but a hei- 
nous offence to society in general, cut- 
ting in tv\ ain those ties which the laws, 
both moral and divine, esteem as sa- 
cred. What a cruelty it is on the part 
of the adulterer, thus wantonly to 
wound the peace of a friend or neigh- 
bour. The children of a man so basely 
injured, are deprived of the care and 
tenderness of their mother, and his 
household of its mistress — he is plung- 
ed into an abyss of ruin and despair. 
D 



1£ WHOLE DUTY 

The pecuniary recompence, called dam- 
ages, which the legal forms of his coun- 
try allow him, if he is in circumstances 
sufficient to seek that remedy, is a poor 
balsam to his wounded heart. If the law 
frees him from his guilty wife — he is 
afraid to enter again into the married 
state, though his home and neglected 
children call for such a step ; he regards 
every female with an eye of prejudice, 
for the conduct of her, whom he once 
thought endowed with every virtue, has 
banished candour and confidence, and 
filled his breast with suspicion and dis- 
trust. 



CHAPTER IV. 
Parental Duties. 

The parent is not only bound to pro 
ide for his progeny . and to amply sup 



OF MEN. 4g 

ply the wants of their helpless years; 
but by means of proper instruction and 
government, to lay a foundation for 
their future welfare. One of the first 
and most important duties is to give 
them a suitable education, and to leave 
nothing undone in this point which it is 
in your power to command; lay not a 
stress on mere accomplishments, but 
endeavour to impress on the minds of 
your children, their comparatively low 
importance to the more genuine and 
solid branches of education. 

A parent ought constantly to aim at 
securing the affectionate confidence of 
his children, and cause them to regard 
him not only as a father, but as a stea- 
dy friend; let him display a strict 
exercise of needful authority, devoid 
of passionate or morose behaviour,, or 
groundless restraint. St. Paul advises 
parents "not to provoke their children 
to anger by authority and rashness, lest 
they should be discouraged." A father 



44 WHOLE DUTY 

should always explain to his children, 
as far as their years or understanding 
will permit, the meaning of his com- 
mands or prohibitions, and the proba- 
ble evil that will result from disobedi- 
ence to his orders. This will ensure 
their love and respect, by preventing 
their deeming him capricious or unrea- 
sonable; it will impress their memory 
and attention with due notions of right 
and wrong, and convince them of the 
assiduity, anxiety, and labour of their 
parent to promote their benefit. 

The parent must not neglect, on 
every proper occasion, to point out the 
reason why any of his children are in- 
structed in any particular branch of 
study, accomplishment, or profession, 
and also why they are not employed in 
others, in which it is probable they 
may observe some of their companions 
engaged. 

When for any act of omission or neg- 
ligence, the parent finds it requisite to 






OF MEN. 45 

use reproof, let him betray no symptom 
of passion, but couch his reproof in such 
terms, that the offending party may 
clearly perceive the cause and motive of 
his anger, and the consequences that 
must ensue from the fault or neglect. — 
Let not the parent give his children 
any just cause to suppose, that he re- 
gards any one of them individually 
*rith more favour or affection than the 
rest, lest he plant the seeds of envy or 
discontent in their bosoms, and destroy 
the ardour of fraternal love, and family 
concord. 

Let the parent carefully endeavour to 
root out from the breasts of his progeny, 
every species of dissimulation, art, and 
falsehood; let him endeavour to bring 
them to a frank and uniform method, 
founded on the principle of owning their 
faults, without delay; let him watch over 
their progress in learning, and lead their 
minds at proper seasons, to modern his- 
tory, geography, &c: let him teach 



46 WHOLE DUTY 

younger children to look forward, with- 
out repining, to the usual superiority 
of the eldest, and the eldest to behave 
to the others without arrogance or 
exultation ; let him observe to them 
frequently that distinctions of rank and 
employments constantly tend to the 
common good of all ; that every sta- 
tion in life has its advantages and dis- 
advantages, but in all of them, by act- 
ing right, God's blessing and favour 
may be procured ; for he looks at the 
heart, and judges not by personal dis- 
tinctions, but essential services render- 
ed to mankind ; train up your children 
to a habit of examining the various 
works of nature and art, and passing 
their opinion on them: but above all, as 
the holy apostle enjoins, bring them 
up in the nurture and admonition of the 
Lord ; lead them even from infancy, to 
a warm sense of religion; as their minds 
expand, endeavour to establish in them 
a thorough knowledge of the Christian 



OF MEN. 47 

faith, both in its internal and exter- 
nal evidences ; accustom them to fre- 
quent perusals of the Old and New 
Testaments, and the remarks and pro- 
ductions of authors, famed for their pi- 
ety ; and suffer them not, unless from 
indisposition or some other weighty 
cause, to absent themselves from pub- 
lic worship. Be careful what compa- 
nions you select for your children, or 
allow them to associate with ; evil com- 
pany may act on their juvenile minds 
as a check to all you have been say- 
ing, or doing for their good ; let no 
prospect of advantage whatsover, from 
superior connections, suffer you to per- 
mit your children to form an intimacy 
with any in an elevated station, if their 
morals are reprehensible, for the inju- 
ries resulting from the intercourse, will 
overbalance any benefits they may re- 
ceive ; allow your children to share in 
every innocent recreation that is proper 
for their age and station, but let this be 



48 WHOLE DUTY 

completely within the verge of reason 
and propriety; unlimited indulgence 
in this respect is very prejudicial to the 
morals of youth, and they rush head- 
long into a stream of pleasure, that may 
eventually lead them to destruction. 

The strictness of a parent's authori- 
ty ceases, when a child arrives at a ma- 
ture age, yet a mild, tender, though di- 
minished power still remains, and will 
be acknowledged by the child, both by 
the dictates of religion, principle, and 
reason, and a never-ending sense of 
obligation ; the son or daughter arrived 
at a mature age, is bound throughout 
existence to show love and tender af- 
fection to the parent, and administer to 
his wants and infirmities, should sorrow 
cloud his latter days. — My son, help 
thy father in his age, and grieve him 
not as long as he liveth ; and if his un- 
derstanding fail, despise hisn not, when 
thou art in thy full strength. 



OF MEN. 49 

By thus acting, the obligations be- 
tween parent and child are mutually 
requited, and through life, the father 
may still continue to aid his child by 
the benefit of his counsel and experi- 
ence, and if fortune has kindly placed 
it in his power, favour the child in his 
reasonable desires. 

The many urgent reasons, which 
bind every person who has property to 
bequeath of any kind or sort whatso- 
ever, not to neglect having a will by 
them, and not to defer making it till 
sickness or old age overtake them, 
ought to press with more than common 
weight on one that has children, or 
very near kindred, that he may by thus 
acting, secure their future happiness 
and welfare, by making a just distribu- 
tion of his property, and not expose 
it to the risk of his dying intestate, 
or bequeathing his fortune and effects, 
in a hasty, unjust, or perhaps invalid 
manner $ he should be explicit, with re- 



50 WHOLE DUTY 

gard to the nature and situation of his 
property; be clear in explaining his 
meaning and careful in attending, to the 
legal forms : as failure in any of these 
points, may prove the ground-work of 
future law suits, which may involve 
some of his descendants in utter ruin, 
beside creating hatred and discord 
among kindred. In the first place, he 
should provide amply for the payment 
of all his just debts, or contracts. If 
it be his misfortune to have a child not 
worthy to be entrusted with a sura of 
money, let him leave it by way of an- 
nuity, firmly settled; if the party be 
married, let some provision be made 
for the children. Let him be careful 
to select active, conscientious, and able 
persons, for executors, trustees, or guar- 
dians: and, among other circumstances, 
let him be guided by their probable 
chance of life and who is to succeed 
them in their trust. 



OF MEN. 51 

CHAPTER V. 3 

Duties required of the Master of a fa- 
mily ; also the duties of a Servant. 

We have already explained the da- 
ties belonging to a husband and a fa- 
ther, in as copious a manner as our 
narrow limits will permit, but propor- 
tional regard ought to-be shown to re- 
lations and valued friends, and in some 
kind of degree, extended to every indi- 
vidual who resides under his roof, whe- 
ther as inmates, servants, apprentices, 
&c. Cheerful good humour, and mild- 
ness of manners, contribute to the hap- 
piness of domestic life; on the contra- 
ry, it is easy to perceive the gloom and 
constraint that pervade every part of 
a family, the master of which is tyran- 
nical, morose, capricious or peevish ; 
his servants may have claims, placed, 
as they undoubtedly are, in a tempora- 
ry state of subordination to their em- 



52 WHOLE DUTY 

ployer, yet they stand on a level with 
him in the great family of the universe, 
and in sight of an impartial God. 

Let the servant ever bear in mind 
that his duties are respect, obedience 
fidelity, and assiduity to those who 
he serves ; he should be active, sober 
and honest, abstaining from profane o 
immodest language, and economical o 
any part of the family substance whicl 
is entrusted to his charge or expen 
diiure, giving a strict, honest, an 
regular account thereof. If the ser 
vant finds the situation too laborious, 
or in any way unpleasant, so as to oc- 
casion a wish to quit, let his warning 
be given with the utmost civility and 
candour, and not fall into the shameful 
error, common to many, of striving by 
a planned system of negligence and 
impertinence, to make his employer dis- 
charge him. In return for the ser- 
vices of a domestic, a master is bound 
by every law, both human and di- 



OF MEN. 53 

vine, to give unto them what is just and 
proper; to threaten not, nor rebuke 
without real occasion. Keep no more 
servants than what you can well afford, 
burthen them not with immoderate 
work, nor run into the contrary cause 
of rendering them idle and dissolute, 
for want of due employment. 

The wages agreed on, should be paid 
regularly at the stated times; no exam- 
ple of profligacy should be allowed in 
the house, to spread its contagion to 
the domestics, of others. Let there be 
no undue partiality or familiarity shown 
to any of your servants, but treat them 
in a manner due to their different situ- 
ations and abilities ; be ever ready 
to hear any of their complaints, with- 
out giving way to petty tale bear- 
ing or trival quarrels ; indulge your 
servants with proper recreations, and 
at stated periods with visits to their 
friends, or relations ; afford them sui- 
table opportunities to attend public 






54 WHOLE DUTY 

worship — see that they are suppliei 
with bibles and prayer books, and 
grudge not the small expense of having 
the ignorant among them taught to read 
and write; small presents of books, 
money, clothes, or any other article, at 
the option of the giver, may be bestow- 
ed with advantage, on occasions of par- 
ticular service or merit, and also premi- 
ums for long and faithful service; these, 
are not only to be considered as bene- 
fits deservedly bestowed on the par- 
ties themselves, but as a proper sti- 
mulus to other domestics, that they 
may strive with honesty and diligence, 
to obtain similar marks of favour: 
these observations may also, when in 
the power of the master and mistress, be 
extended to proper loans, when a faith- 
ful servant quits them, in order to mar- 
ry, or settle in business. Every mas- 
ter, mistress, or employer, ought, and 
indeed is bound to give, on a servants 
changing his service, a plain, candid 



OF MEN. 53 

character, paying a very strict regard 
to truth and justice, neither speaking 
in too favourable a manner, through ill- 
placed partiality, or a mistaken lenity, 
or in too harsh a manner, through pique 
or resentment; written characters should 
neither be given or taken, as such re- 
commendations (if not, as is often 
times the case, a forgery) are frequent- 
ly used improperly by the servants for 
whom they were written, or are trans- 
ferred to other hands, and perverted in- 
to purposes of deceit and dishonesty. 

The labourers on any farm, ground, 
&c. or employed in any kind of manu- 
facture, are to be considered in some 
respect as servants, as such to receive 
at the hands of their employer suffici- 
ent wages and exact payment, and a 
reasonable attention to their wants, 
health, and morals ; dismiss them not, 
without due notice, from employ, and 
look with pity on those whose age 
or infirmities, make their day's labour 



56 WHOLE DUTY 



of less value than that of others, who 
are in the possession of full strength 
and vigour. 

In filling up this slight outline of 
domestic proceedings, there are some 
points yet left to notice, which deserve 
the serious attention of the master of a 
family. Let him banish scandal and ill- 
natured remarks on individuals, from 
his fire side and table ; let him restrict 
trifling habits and amusements into as 
narrow limits as possible; let him keep 
to the good practice of family prayer, 
morning and evening ; let him supply 
his domestic library with instructive 
books, and give to those under his care 
an excellent example in his own pur- 
suits and conversation. 

Let not a master of a family attend 
boxing matches and cock -pits, they are 
savage spectacles, disgraceful to huma- 
nity; race-courses and gaming-tables, 
are destructive pursuits, and introduce 
a man to the most baneful andprofli- 



' 



OF MEN. 5f 

gate society. Let him partake of every 
innocent or refined amusement within 
his reach, with moderation and econo- 
my. Neither visits nor journeys, ex- 
cept in cases of importance or necessity, 
should be taken or allowed on a Sun- 
day, to break the rest and proper duties 
of the sabbath. Let him studv the 
scriptures with reverence, and refrain 
from every habit of intemperance and 
profligacy in his social intercourse with 
other families; let him have a strict re- 
gard to his character and morals, and 
shun the slightest degree of intimacy 
with the depraved; let him beware of 
envy and discontent at the advance- 
ment of others ; let him harbour no 
sentiment of superior birth to those 
around him, if he by chance belong to 
a better family than his neighbour ; let 
him avoid paying servile court to any 
great man, or becoming his tool, and, 
being rendered arrogant by his notice, 
of behaving with contempt and fickle- 
E 



58 WHOLE DUTY 

hess to others: should a considerable 
addition of wealth devolve on him, let 
Mm not give way to extravagance or 
ostentation, or treat his former friends 
with coolness ; let him avoid disputes 
and quarrels of every kind, and never 
without the most urgent necessity en- 
gage in a law-suit; and let no motive 
whatever engage him either as princi- 
pal, or as a second, in the unchristian 
practice of duelling. 

Be kind though prudent in lending 
money, and careful in exacting pay- 
ment ; let him be ever ready to do any 
good offices among his friends and ac- 
quaintance, either with or without so- 
licitation : to that effect, let him be 
ever ready to conciliate misunderstand- 
ings, and take on himself the office of 
peace maker; but in doing this, let him 
not pry into the affairs or secret trans- 
actions of others, for the mere purpose 
of gratifying vain curiosity, or to pro- 
pagate any rumour to the disadvantage 



OF MEN. 59 

of the parties, or make them the sub- 
ject of an unguarded conversation. 

Let no difference of opinion, either 
on religious tenets, politics, or local 
concerns, raise in your breast a single 
spark of animosity or resentment ; en- 
deavor to follow with strictness the di- 
rections given in the holy scriptures to 
all ranks and conditions of men, « to 
be quiet, and mind their own business;" 
a precept that strongly intimates the 
broils and contentions, caused by a bu- 
sy meddling person. 



CHAPTER VI. 

A few Remarks on the Duties of Men 
as citizens and subjects. 

Submit yourselves, said St. Peter, 
to every ordinance of man, whether it 
be to the king as supreme, or unto go- 



60 WHOLE DUTY 

vernors; as unto them that are sent by 
him for the punishment of evil doers. 
(1. Peter, cii. v. 13.) 

Those whaare thus ordained by man 
to execute the functions of governors, 
are to be obeyed for conscience sake; 
and therefore are said by Paul to be 
ordained of God. " There is no power 
but of God:" every form of legal gov- 
ernment is sanctioned by our creator; 
"the powers that be are ordained of 
God." Even the persecuting, tyran- 
nical, and idolatrous Roman power, 
had authority from God to exact obe- 
dience from those to whom the apostle 
wrote; because their several countries 
had engaged to render it. Whence 
St. Paul infers, that whoever resist- 
eth the power, and refuses to pay 
just obedience to lawful rulers, resisteth 
the ordinance of God; and they that 
resist shall receive to themselves con- 
demnation. It is the duty of every 
subject to obey with cheerfulness the 



OF MEN. 6i 

laws under which he lives. — This, duty 
and reason inculcate : and hev dictates 
receive support and strength fron Chris- 
tianity. Render, said St. Paul, to each 
magistrate his due; tribute to whom 
tribute is due, custom to whom custom 
is due, fear to whom fear, and honour 
to whom honour is expected, in ano- 
ther part of the scripture, the same 
apostle says, "1 exhort, therefore, that 
the first of all supplications, prayers, 
and intercessions, and giving of thanks, 
be made for all men; for kings and for 
all those that are in authority, that we 
may lead a quiet and peaceable life, in 
all godliness and honesty, for this is 
good and acceptable in the sight of God 
our Saviour/' 

That patriotism is a moral duty, is 
generally allowed by individuals of 
every party and religion. In every 
seminary for the education of the adults 
of the male sex, patriotism is set before 
the youthful pupil, as a ruling principle 



Q% WHOLE DUTY 

of the nations with whose annals we are 
acquainted; as a foundation for every 
heroic action, and every generous en- 
terprise, that throw a shining lustre 
over the classic ages. The best me- 
thod by which every one may prove 
his love to his country, is by ardently 
endeavouring to discharge, with dili- 
gence and fidelity, the duties annexed 
to his station in life, and by striving 
to render himself and family patterns 
of christian virtue, useful knowledge, 
and modest, unassuming manners, — in 
every way exercising his abilities and 
influence to advance the welfare of his 
fellow-creatures. He who does this, 
is a true patriot! — He may pass his 
days in remote obscurity, and no op- 
portunity offer to render splendid ser- 
vices to his country; and, yet the benefit 
of his services extend to multitudes. 
Thus the brook, flowing in silence 
through the valley, swells the mighty 
rivers. 



OF MEN. 63 

Connected with the above, is the 
degree of attention which persons not 
engaged in the administration of affairs 
ought to pay to the conduct of the exist- 
ing government; in this there are two 
extremes, into one of which it is not 
uncommon for a man to fall: some from 
a restless spirit of curiosity, some from 
a meddling disposition, and others, 
from a wish to raise themselves into 
importance in the eyes of their neigh- 
bours., take an eager part in every pub- 
lic measure, (the drift of which, per- 
haps, they do not understand) and are 
never truly satisfied, but when engag- 
ed in some political dissentions, or in 
the fabrication of petitions, addresses, 
resolutions, or remonstrances, often dis- 
playing to public view their ignorance, 
and consequently destroying their po- 
litical consequence; for either approba- 
tion or censure misapplied defeats its 
own object: their private affairs nre in 
the mean time neglected, and often fall 



64 WHOLE DUTY 

to ruin; and while these infatuated per- 
sons represent themselves as sacrificing 
every thing for the public weal, they 
experience contempt, disgust and ridi- 
cule, for such must inevitably become 
the lot of such troublesome and vision- 
ary projectors. Nor is this the worst 
effect arising from their absurdity; they 
bring an universal odium on every pub- 
lic inquiry into the conduct of the legis- 
lature, the most salutary species of 
control which a people can exercise; 
and thus contribute to bring others into 
an error the very reverse to their own, 
but equally prejudicial: for they who 
from habitual or acquired indolence, or 
from a distaste to political investiga- 
tions, professedly decline all superin- 
tendance over the conduct of those en- 
trusted with the guidance of national 
affairs, usually excuse their supineness 
by deriding the blunders of self-consti- 
tuted politicians; but these persons are 
not aware of the impropriety. 



OF MEN. 65 

Nothing so effectually operates to 
iteter the government of any country 
from involving itself in improper en- 
terprizes, — or so powerfully impels it, 
when engaged in such, to retrace their 
steps, as the consciousness that the pub- 
lic eye is steadily regarding its pro- 
ceedings. He is the most sincere and 
able friend to his country, and acts with 
most wisdom, who, aware of the falli- 
bility of the most experienced admin- 
istration, and of the temptations which 
are attached to the possession of autho- 
rity, regards with steady attention, de- 
void of ostentation and neglect of self- 
affairs, the conduct of those who man- 
age the affairs of government; who pla- 
ces in them a reasonable degree of con- 
fidence, and forbears to harrass them, 
by interfering on trifling occasions; but 
who is at all times ready, when an im- 
portant crisis presents itself, whether it 
be for the purpose of furthering equi- 
table and beneficial undertakings, or of 



66 WHOLE DUTY 

counteracting iniquitous and impolitic 
measures, to give a temperate, yet firm 
and manly testimony of his real and 
decided opinion 

Let all those who are in any way 
concerned in the administration of jus- 
tice, be careful in discharging the duties 
imposed by virtue of their office, with 
fidelity, exactness, and impartiality; 
let no views of private interest, or ap- 
prehension of giving oifence to indivi- 
duals, influence you; avoid every dis- 
play of petty and undue authority; and 
where , mercy or forbearance can be 
shown, without infringing on the jus- 
tice due to others, let not your heart be 
steeled against the dictates of humani- 
ty: keep your hands clear from bribes, 
and stain not your conscience with such 
a hateful crime. 

Let it now be remembered, that in 
every circumstance of life, a necessary 
degree of firmness of mind must regu- 
late all our actions, even acts of huma- 



OF MEN. 67 

nity and mercy. Steadiness of deport- 
ment, free from affectation or pride, the 
genuine offspring of sense and piety, is 
necessary to repel loquacity, imperti- 
nence, and rudeness in others; to curb 
the bold and licentious, and awe those 
who are hardened in vice. Let no man 
persist in a wrong measure through 
false shame; and, in particular, let him 
harbour no resentment against the per- 
son or persons who point out the vices, 
errors, or absurdities of which he is 
guilty; but strive to amend his life, and 
keep in that enviable frame of minclj 
which bears good will to all men. 



CHAPTER VII. 

Widowers, and second Marriage. 

The tenure of life is frail and uncer- 
tain ; no man can retain, when the Al- 



08 WHOLE DUTY 

mighty God pleases to stretch forth his 
hand, the most dear, valuable, and be- 
loved wife from the icy fangs of death : 
youth, beauty, virtue, and merit, are no 
protection against this awful messen- 
ger. The case is peculiarly afflict- 
ing, when a family of infants survive 
their mother ; their age calls for the 
benefit of maternal tenderness, and the 
father, to secure a virtuous companion 
for himself, and a mother to his chil- 
dren, finds it necessary to enter again 
into the holy state of wedlock; at least, 
this is in general the pretext for se- 
cond marriage : but let this be done 
with wisdom and discretion ; take not 
to wife a person scarce older than the 
elder of your own children ; you can 
never expect they will pay due obedi- 
ence or deference to her — it is out of the 
order of nature ; look not in a second 
wife, so much for wealth and beauty, as 
for domestic virtues, tenderness, and 
sense ; but let her birth and connec- 



OF MEN. 68 

tions be equal to your own. In the 
event of children by second marriage, 
keep a strict watch on yourself, that 
your affections be not estranged from 
the offspring of your first union ; and 
be equal in the distribution of your care, 
providing presents, and other testimo- 
nies of paternal love. If it should un- 
happily prove, that you are disappoint- 
ed in the conduct you had fondly ex- 
pected from your second wife, in her 
behaviour to the children of your first 
marriage, and you witness her neglect, 
ill-treatment or dislike, sometimes aris- 
ing from too great a preference to her 
own offspring, interested motives, or a 
variety of other causes, then argue 
the subject mildly with her, and de- 
clare your sentiments, on a subject of 
such importance to yourself and family: 
and if you find this in vain, consider 
it as an important duty incumber' on 
you to place your neglected offspring 
under better care, and to ensure them, 



70 WHOLE DUTY 

as far as in your power, a permanent 
support, independent of your wife's 
cruelty or caprice. 

When a man is left in a state of wi- 
dowhood without children, the case is 
widely different; he is then the inde- 
pendent master of his own actions: he 
may contract a second marriage, with- 
out consulting any affection or inter- 
est but his own, and the object of his 
selection ; but the father of a young 
family who acts thus, has much to -an- 
swer for; should his children, grown 
to mature years, become disgusted, 
and quitting the protection a fath- 
er's house affords, (or at least ought 
afford) hurl themselves into the paths of 
destructive vice, must not his conscience 
whisper to him that, " this is thine own 
work," 

Happy is the widower, with his chil- 
dren, who entering again into the mar- 
riage state, meets ith a trnly amiable 
female, capable of forming his happi- 



OF MEN. 71 

ness and that of his children; who, 
regarding the latter with a tender in- 
terest, will endeavour to supply the 
place of their lost mother ; who, if she 
is blest with children of her own, will 
strive to unite both sets of offspring in 
one bond of unity and fraternal love ; 
she will have no private interest, but 
happy in herself, and a blessing to the 
family; share with her approving hus- 
band, a consciousness of having act- 
ed right, for no man can be a pious 
christian, or a good subject that treats 
his own offspring with neglect or injus- 
tice. 






U> i 



MMT ffiffi 



t 



THE WHOLE 

mmww %w a w%MAm^ 

OR, A 

GvVide to the Female Sex, 

FROM THE 

AGE OF SIXTEEN TO SIXTY. 

WITH 

THE WHOLE ART OF LOVE- 

OF THE 

MARRIAGE STATE. 

AXD 

THE DUTY OF A WIDOW. 
BY A LADY. 

FIRST AMERICAN FROM THE LONBON EDITION. 

1822. 






THE WHOLE 

DUTY OF A WOMAN. 

CHAPTER I. 

Directions how to obtain the divine anH 
moral Virtues of Piety, Meekness, 
Modesty, Chastity, Humility, Com- 
passion, Temperance, and Affability, 
with their advantages, — and how to 
avoid the opposite Vices, viz. Impi- 
ety, Obstinacy, Immodesty, Unclean- 
liness, Pride, Uncharitableness, In- 
temperance, and Disdain, with the 
inischiefs that attend them. 

Being to treat of the many graces 
and virtues, that are required to be 
strictly observed by our sex, I think 
I cannot do better than to begin with 



78 WHOLE DUTY 

that which more immediately is requir- 
ed to beautify the soul, which is Piety, 
and then the rest in order. 

Piety, is certainly an excellent 
adornment to the soul and body ; and 
indeed Solomon well admonished us 
when he said, " Remember thy Crea- 
tor in the days of thy youth," for your 
duty to God is an introduction to all 
other felicities in this world and that 
which is to come. 

Be therefore mindful of this, " Pray 
earnestly." Meditate on his love an 
kindness towards you, that he ma 
continue his blessings to your comfort 
Consider you are wholly God's portio 
bv title of creation ; and that whateve 
you enjoy proceeds from him. An 
therefore all your endeavours must b 
entirely employed in his service, in do 
ing all the good you can, our sex being 
privileged with great advantage o 
this by reason of the leisure they have 
to proceed in it. 



OF A WOMAN. 79 

2. It is not alone sufficient that the 
service of God is imprinted in your 
mind, but it must be put in practice, and 
nothing that is in your power omitted ; 
and if you fail in either, you must re- 
double your diligence to recall the time 
you have spent amiss. And be often 
in meditation and prayer, that no temp- 
tation may find an opportunity to fix 
upon your wandering thoughts ; these 
two are main pillars of religious 
duty. Meditation, like the eye, views 
our mercies; and prayer, like the hand, 
reaches to us those mercies. 

3. Let God be all and all with you; 
set your affections on nothing that may 
divide you from him, for that is robbing 
him of his honour: Love Him with all 
your heart, and all your soul, and all 
your strength. 

& Be in charity and kindness with 
all people: relieve those who are in 
want, according to your ability: instruct 
those who do amiss, and persuade them 



80 WHOLE DUTY 

to reform their lives : give no occasion 
for scandal or reproach ; but let your 
conversation be an example to others. 
In your private devotions be frequent 
and fervent ; and in the public assem- 
blies of God's worship, behave your- 
selves with all reverence, modesty, and 
becoming decency. Be attentive, and 
fix your mind on what was the occasion 
of yourcoming thither, that Grod's words 
may be imprinted in your hearts. For- 
get not to communicate ; but, above all, 
be sure, by prayer, self-examination, 
works of mercy, and charity, to pre- 
pare yourselves for the reception of 
that adorable mystery. Let not anger 
or passion prevail over you, but be 
humble, and so shall you prosper in all 
your ways; for the Lord shall be your 
portion and your exceeding great re- 
ward. He will protect and keep you 
safe in this life; and in the next, take 
you to dwell with him in eternalglories; 
when, on the contrary., 



OF A WOMAN. SI 

Impiety pollutes and poisons the 
sweets of this life, taints your names 
and reputation, and wounds your souls, 
lays perpetual snares and stumbling 
blocks in your way, to make you fall 
into various mischiefs. But that which 
is most grievous to be borne is, that it 
makes God your enemy ! .whose auger 
is sharper than a two-edged sword. 
In brief, sin is a monster that came 
into the world by the disobedience 
of our first parents, and brought with 
it innumerable woes ; and though 
the devil, who is its parent, labours, 
by his agents, very industriously to 
cover its deformities under borrowed 
names and specious pretences, yet. in 
the eyes of the virtuous, it is so ugly 
and deformed, that it is to be loathed 
and abhorred ; therefore as it is an ene- 
my to God, be you always at enmity 
with it, so that you may arrive in the 
end at the kingdom of glory by all the 
ways of grace, prudence and religion: 



83 WHOLE DUTY 

Meekness is not only recommend- 
ed to us all as a christian virtue, but 
particularly to women, as a peculiar 
accomplishment of the sex. As St. 
Peter, after mentioning of all the exqui- 
site and costly deckings of art, recom- 
mends to you, above all, this one or- 
nament, "A meek and quiet spirit," 
with this eminent attestation, " That it 
is in the sight of God of great price." 
But although meekness be in itself an 
entire single virtue, yet it is diversifi- 
ed according to the several faculties of 
the soul over which it has influence ; se 
that a meekness of the understanding, 
a meekness of the will, and a meek- 
ness of the affections, all concur to 
make up a meek and quiet spirit ; and 
we shall speak of these in their order. 

1. The meakness of the understand- 
ing consists in a pliableness to convic- 
tion, owing our faults and un worthi- 
ness without repining. 



OF A WOMAN. 83 

2. The meekness of the will lies in 
its subordination and submission to a 
more supreme authority, which is the 
Will of God; and in natural and moral 
reason, and in human constitutions, to 
the command of superiors. And so 
long as the will governs itself, it trans- 
gresses not the meekness required of it. 

3. The meekness of the affections 
consists in reducing the passions to a 
calm temper, not suffering them to ruf- 
fle or to disturb us within, nor, to dis- 
quiet others without ; and to this regu- 
lation, meekness is generally subser- 
vient. To meekness may be opposed, 

CONCEITEDNESS, OBSTINACY, aild 

Inordinate Passions, both trouble- 
some to yourselves and others, such as 
Revenge, Fury, &c. But to avoid 
these, hear what our Saviour says, 
"Blessed are the meek in spirit, for 
theirs is the kingdom of Heaven." 

1. Modesty is properly termed the 
science of decent motion, as being a 



84 WHOLE DUTY 

guider and regulator of all decent and 
comely carriage and behaviour, check- 
ing and controuling rudeness ; and is 
held the great civilizer of conversation, 
balancing the mind with humble and 
sober thoughts of yourselves, and or- 
dering every part of the outward frame 
in the most winning and obliging man- 
ner. 

2. It appears in the face, in calm and 
comely looks, where it makes due im- 
pressions ; so that it seems from thence 
to have -acquired the name of sharae- 
facedness ; and truly, whatever the 
modern opinion of some may be, there 
is nothing adds a greater lustre to femi- 
nine beauty. 

3. Modesty confines itself not to the 
face only, but spreads itself in life, 
motions, and words, banishing all in- 
decency and rudeness, all insolent 
vauntings, and whatever may render 
our sex troublesome, or uneasy, in com- 
pany or conversation. It refines and 



OF A WOMAN. 85 

tunes tlie language, modulates the 
tones and accents, not admitting the in- 
trusion of unhandsome, earnest, or loud 
discourse, so that the modest tongue 
is like the imaginable music of the 
spheres, sweet and charming, but not 
to be heard at a distance. 
4. As modesty prescribes the manner, 
so it also does the measure, of speaking. 
It restrains all excessive talkativeness, 
which is so rude and imposing on com- 
pany, that there can scarcely be a grea- 
ter indecency in conversation. 

Modesty therefore ought, if you 
have respect to virtue and a good name, 
to appear on its highest elevation. 
Your looks, your speech, and your 
whole behaviour, should rather be to 
learn and observe than to dictate and 
prescribe, unless upon very emer- 
gent occasions ; and therefore, as you 
value your reputation, keep up to the 
strictness of this virtue, least when you 
conceive it not amiss, in trivial matters, 






86 WHOLE DUTY 

to launch beyond the bounds of modes- 
ty, you are violently carried too far to 
retreat before you are aware of it ; as 
I shall show you in the contrast to this 
excellent adornment of our sex. 

Immodesty is held, even in heathen 
nations a great reproach and scandal, 
especially where it is found in women ; 
and St. Paul, who speaks by an excel- 
lent spirit, commands, that "women 
adorn themselves in modest apparel, 
with shamefacedness and sobriety ; not 
with broidered hair, or gold, or pearls, 
or costly array, but (which becometh 
women professing godliness,) with 
God's work." [1 Tim. ii. 9.] So 
that when those who are not well af- 
fected to modesty have strained their 
art to the highest pitch, an innocent 
modesty and native simplicity of look 
will triumph over their artificial beau- 
ties. And, indeed, if a woman be 
adorned with all the embellishments of 
art and nature to boot, yet if boldness, 



OF A WOMAN. 87 

scorn and haughty looks be imprinted 
in her face, they blot out all the lines 
of comeliness, and like a dark cloud 
over the sun, shade the view of all that 
was otherwise amiable ; and render 
its blackness but the more observable 
by being placed somewhat nearer that 
which was apt to attract the eyes ; and 
leave a stain on their names and repu- 
tation. 

2. There is scarcely any thing to be 
found that appears more indecent than 
to be proud, or too forward in talk, or 
indecent in behaviour. Yet now we 
too sadly see that which former ages 
called pride and boldness, is called the 
sign of a great spirit, gentetl breeding, 
and confidence. Yet I have seen such 
bad superstructures built on that foun- 
dation as I hope will not recommend 
them to any person of our sex. 

Chastity is that grace which re- 
strains to the keeping of the body and 
soul pure, in that state which they are 



88 WHOLE DUTY 

placed by God, whether of the single 
or of the married life ; concerning 
which, our duty is thus described by 
St. Paul, [1 Thes. iv. 3,4,5.] "For 
this is well pleasing to God, even our 
sanctification, that ye should abstain 
from fornication ; that every one of you 
shall know how to possess his vessel in 
sanctification and honour ; not in the 
lust of concupiscence, even as the Gen- 
tiles, who know not God." 

Chastity consists either in virtuous 
abstinence or continence. Abstinence 
is properly attributed to virgins or wid- 
ows; continence to married women. — - 
Chaste marriages are honourable and 
pleasing to God. Widowhood is piti- 
able in its solitariness and loss, but 
amiable and comely where it is adorned 
with gravity and purity, and not sul- 
lied with the remembrance of past plea- 
sures, which in this state, chastity will 
not admit of, nor with present desires 
of returning to a second bed. Having 



OF A WOMAN. 89 

great opportunities for retired devotion, 
and being empty of cares, it ought to 
be full of prayers; and employed at all 
convenient times in holy duties. Being 
unmingled with the world, it is more 
apt to converse with God ; and by not 
feeling the warmth of a too forward or 
indulgent nature, flames up with holy 
fires, till it be burning like the cheru- 
bims, and extasied order of holy and 
unpolluted spirits. 

The virtue of Chastity, above all, 
is so essential and natural to our sex, 
that every deviation from it is in a man- 
ner departing from womanhood; and 
the total abandoning of it, ranks 
you among brutes. An uncbast wo- 
man is looked upon as a kind of mon- 
ster ; a thing divided and distorted 
from its proper form, especially by 
chaste and virtuous persons. And I 
dare appeal to the forward est of those 
who go thus astray, (and in dishonour- 
ing themselves, give occasion of scan- 
G 



90 WHOLE DUTY 

dal to our sex,) whether at first, they 
could not with more ease have kept 
their virtue than have lost it. Certain- 
ly such are the horrors and shame that 
precede those first guilts, that they 
must, as it may be termed, commit a 
rape upon themselves (that is, force 
their own reluctancy and aversion) be- 
fore they can become willing prostitutes 
to others : this their seducers seem 
well enough to understand, and upon 
that score are at the pains of so many 
preparatory courtings, and expensive 
presents, as if this were so rare a crime 
that there were no hopes to introduce it 
but by a confederacy of some more fa- 
miliar vices, such as pride or covetous - 
jiess ; therefore have a care of these 
snares. 

"For know you not," saith St. Paul, 
"that your body is the temple of the 
Holy Ghost?" Tf this be so, will you 
defile it, when God himself threatens to 
destroy you, if you do ? 



# 



9F A WOMAN. §1 

Humility is a great ornament to our 
sex ; and the graces of it are exercis- 
ed by the following rules. 

1. Think not yourself better for any 
thing that happens to you from without; 
for though you may have many gifts 
bestowed upon you better than others, 
yet you consider you are a mortal crea- 
ture, wholly relying, as well as others, 
upon God's protection, mercy, and pro- 
vidence ; and take no praise to your- 
self, but that you have a little time to 
employ in his service who brought you 
into the world, and in whose hands 
are all your riches and honours, and 
even breath of life ; who can, if he 
pleases, take from you what he has gi- 
ven, and bestow it on the poorest and 
meanest person on earth. — However, 
humility consists not in railing against 
yourself, or in going in base apparel, 
but walking softly and submissively, in 
a mean opinion of yourself, being con- 
tent to want praise or outward ap- 



\ 



WHOLE DUTY 



plause; and not troubled or angry when 
you are slighted or undervalued. Ne- 
ver be ashamed of your birth, your pa- 
rents, or calling, for the meanness or 
poverty of any of them; but speak as 
readily and indifferently of meanness as 
you would of greatness. Primislaus, 
king of Bohemia, was raised (by the 
queen casting her affections acciden- 
tally on him, as she passed by his field) 
from the plough to the throne, yet was 
so humble, that he kept his country 
shoes always by him, to put him in 
mind of his lowly condition. The fur- 
niture of Agathocles- s table demonstrat- 
ed that he was raised from a potter to 
be king of Sicily. But what need 1 
insist upon these, when the King of 
kings propounded himself so imitable 
by his disciples, so signally in nothing 
as in the Twin Sisters, viz. Meekness 
and Humility : Learn (says he) of me, 
for I am meek and humble; and you 
shall find rest to your souls. 



OF A WOMAN. 93 

2. Never speak or think directly 
tending to your praise, that is, on pur- 
pose to be praised: and when you have 
said or done any thing for which you 
cannot avoid receiving praise, take it 
indirectly; and, then, disrobing your- 
self of it, return it to God, reflecting that 
he is the giver of the gift, or the blesser 
of the action : and give him thanks for 
making you an instrument of his glory, 
for the benefit of others. Secure a good 
name by living virtuously and humbly; 
let your face, like that of Moses, shine 
to others, but make a looking-glass for 
yourself. Use no stratagem or de- 
vice to get praise, nor seek for any re- 
ward here, but walking uprightly and 
humbly with God, and those you con- 
verse with here, then you shall one 
day be exalted to heaven, when the 
proud and haughty shall sink in the 
depths of misery. 

Pride is next, and is as opposite to 
humility as light is to darkness : the 



94 WHOLE DUTY 

latter will lead you to the first ; an< 
the former, those who court it, to the 
last. 

1 . Consider then what vile creatures, 
who are but dust and ashes, have to be 
proud of? If of our bodies, they are 
weak or impure, subject to diseases, to 
decays, to die, corrupt in the grave, 
and turn to rottenness. 

2. Is it your strength you boast, or 
grow proud of? In that you are infe- 
rior to many irrational creatures; nay, 
that which makes too many of our sex 
proud, and look down with disdain, 
even the conceit of beauty, is of no 
value. It makes such a swelling in 
their minds to see, in colour and fra- 
grancy, they are rivalled and outdone 
by various flowers; and they forget, that 
when most florid and gay, a few ague 
fits will soon change all their beauty 
into paleness and deformity. 

3. If proud of learning or of parts, 
"the first of these runs contrary to pride, 



OF A WOMAN. 9g 

teaching humility; the second, civility 
and a modest behaviour. To be proud 
of riches is yet more foolish; for if you 
will exalt yourself above others be- 
cause you have more gold, consider 
how much you are to give place to a 
cabinet of jewels. If proud of your 
birth, you are proud of the blessings of 
others, not of your own; for if your pa- 
rents were more eminent in any circum- 
stance than their neighbours, you are 
to thank God, and rejoice in them more 
than any value in yourself. Remem- 
ber, then, to check all pride in your 
mind; for what were you before you 
were begotten? Nothing. When in 
the first regions of your dwelling, be- 
fore your birth? Uncleanliness. W hat 
for many years after? Weakness, 
What in all your life? A great sinner. 
What in all your excellences? A mere 
debtor to God, to your parents, to the 
earth, and to many creatures. Medi- 
tate but on these things, and you will 



96 WHOLE DUTY 






soon find there is nothing more foolish 
than to he proud. 

Compassion. — This seems natural 
to our sex, whose soft breasts were 
made to entertain tenderness and pity, 
so that 1 find Solomon could not con- 
clude the character of his virtuous wo- 
man without it; he says, "she stretched 
forth her hands to the poor, and reach- 
ed her bread to the needy; [Prov. 31. 
SO.] that is, she was compassionate, 
and had bowels full of mercy; and when 
she saw ^Jiy poor object, it did, as it 
were, command her alms. So that ap- 
plication is very obvious, and admon- 
ishes all who own the title of virtuous 
woman to prefer the necessities of oth- 
ers before their superfluities and delica- 
cies. — Nay, if you look farther, and 
consider who it is that is personated in 
the poor, who begs for every needy 
supplicant, and who will own every 
act of mercy as done to himself, you 
will moderate your enjoyments, and 



OF A WOMAN. 97 

excite yourselves to this act of compas- 
sion, as ashamed to serve yourselves 
before the poor; or let them stand na- 
ked, or hungry, whilst you are solacing 
with that which would relieve them; 
lest at the great day of judgment, when 
you stand in the utmost need, you be 
justly upbraided with this want of com- 
passion; and eternally excluded from 
all comforts, because you refused to 
lend any succour to your distressed fel- 
low-creatures on earth. 

2. Consider, if the bowels of God's 
tender mercy should be shut up against 
you, in what a miserable condition you 
would be, when from his bounty pro- 
ceeds all that you enjoy. Look up to 
the Giver with a serious contemplation 
of mind, and you will soon perceive to 
what end his donations are bestowed 
upon you ; you will find the stock he 
has lent is but to try you in this virtue 
of compassion, or charity to those from 
whom he has restrained the things of 



98 WHOLE DUTY 

this world : and then you will find it 
a very commendable industry to quali- 
fy yourselves to be Ijelpful to the poor* 
in as many instances as you can, to 
provide medicines for such as by dis- 
ease or casualty want that sort of re- 
lief : a charity which is practised by 
many, and I wish it were by more : 
and instead of repairing, or rather dis- 
guising your own complexions, study 
the reparation of the decrepid limbs of 
poor supplicants ; for though it be less 
fashionable, it will cast a sweeter sa- 
vour in God's nostrils, with the smell 
of unguents and balsams, than with the 
most exquisite odours or perfumes on 
our own person. 

Besides this part of compassion, 
there is another act of mercy, which is 
to forgive injuries, laying aside all re- 
sentments and thoughts of revenge : 
though, to some of the hot spirits of 
our sex, this may be thought a very 
hard lesson ; yet, if they do not, they 



OF A WOMAN. 99 

must confess they dissemble with God 
when they say the Lord's Prayer, or 
at least expect to be "forgiven those 
trespasses" which they implore a par- 
don for. Consider yet again, that 
God knows the secrets of all hearts, 
and if we forgive not others, we cannot 
expect to be forgiven. 

3. Uncharitableness is that which 
strikes at the foundation of Christiani- 
ty. And those who divest themselves 
of mercy and compassion, do in vain de- 
clare themselves to be Christians. For 
what can you think of yourselves when 
you wilfully disobey what Christ has 
chiefly enjoined you, and in lieu of 
what you may suffer by it, promises 
salvation ! And, more especially, how 
can you answer it if you have so devot- 
ed your hearts to vanity and luxury, 
that you have neither will nor power to 
succour the wants of others ? How un- 
just is it, that those who study to fling 
away money on themselves, cannot be 



100 WHOLE DUTY 

tempted, by an opportunity of distress, 
to drop alms to the poor ! But when a 
poor starving wretch shall find such 
hard hearts under such soft raiments, 
and see that any one of their baubles 
and loose appendages of dress bear a 
price that would warm their empty 
bowels, and refresh their fainting spir- 
its, it is enough of itself to embitter 
the spirit. Let this then be seriously 
remembered, lest you fall hereafter un- 
der the same reproach as the rich man 
in the gospel. [Luke 16. 25.] "Re- 
member that thou in thy lifetime receiv- 
edest the good things, and Lazarus that 
which was evil ; but now he is com- 
forted, and thou are tormented." 

Besides this part of mercy in giving 
alms, there is another, which is forgiv- 
ing injuries. This is that part of com- 
passion which we peculiarly call clem- 
ency ; a virtue which not only Chris- 
tianity, but morality recommends. The 
heathens were admired in this ; and 



OF A WOMAN. 1(H 

the Christians far exceeded them in the 
primitive times, following the example 
of their great Lord and Master, who 
prayed for his crucifiers, " Father, for- 
give them," &c. [Luke 23. 34.] But 
now we find it much altered, and there- 
fore it ought to be amended by those 
who expect to be forgiven of God. Re- 
venge and Malice being the offsprings 
of Satan, they should be avoided as 
monsters made for ruin and destruction. 
For as there is no monster so deform- 
ed as that compound of a man and beast, 
so nothing can be more unnatural or 
odious than a woman tiger. 

Temperance. — As sobriety is the 
bridle of the passions of desire, so tem- 
perance is a curb to restrain us from an 
immoderate use of meat, drink, and re- 
creations that may injure our health, 
and hinder the work of the soul for natu- 
ral and holy purposes; but when delight 
is the only end, it is the contrary ; for 
such eating and drinking is not serving 



1G2 WHOLE DUTY 

of God, but an inordinate action, be- 
cause it is not in the way to that end. 

2. Be strict in your judgment con 
cerning your proportion, and suffer no 
occasion to make you enlarge beyond 
what is ordinary, lest you exceed the 
bounds of moderation; and as you take 
this caution yourself, never urge any 
one to eat or drink beyond their desires. 
Take into this St. Paul's advice, "Let 
us of the day be sober," &c. 

3. Begin and end your time with 
thanksgiving, so that you may carry 
your mind and spirit to the celestial ta- 
ble, often thinking on it, and often de 
siring it, that by enkindling your de- 
sires to heavenly banquets, you may 
be indifferent and less passionate for 
the earthly. Mingle discourses pious, 
or in some sense profitable, and in all 
senses charitable and innocent. To 
conclude, let you drink so serve your 
meat, as your meat doth your health, 
that it be apt to convey and digest it, 



OF A WOMAN. 103 

and refresh the spirits ; but let it never 
go beyond such refreshment as may 
a little lighten the present load of a sad 
or troubled spirit ; never to inconveni- 
ency, lightness, sottishntss, vanity, or 
intemperance. Be not impatiently de- 
sirous of any thing, so that you cannot 
abstain from it, for that is to lose your 
liberty, and to become a servant to meat 
and drink. s 

Intemperance is hurtful to nature, 
by creating diseases ; to your good 
name, by bringing a scandal on it ; and 
to your soul, by clogging the spirit, 
and hindering it in the offices of its 
devotion; especially intemperance in 
drinking, a vice detestable in all, but 
particularly in a woman, who in that 
case puts a double violence upon her 
nature, the one in the intemperance, the 
other in immodesty ; and though such 
may take their copy from men, yet 
surely nothing human is such a beast 



104 WHOLE DUTY 

as a woman who gives herself up to in- 
temperance. 

Affability is so becoming in oui 
sex that it is one of their chiefest orna- 
ments and moral virtues, and more ab- 
solutely necessary in them than in mei 
and for its cause, is derived either fro] 
a native candour and generosity 
mind, or from a noble and ingenuous 
education, or conjointly from both; an< 
these are as good originals as any thhii 
merely moral can flow from ; and this 
virtue reaches farther, and grasps ai 
that which is divine, for as far as it par- 
takes of humanity, it must of sincerity 
also, that being a virtue whose ver 
elements are plainness and simplicity; 
for as it has no designs that want a co 
ver, so it needs none of those substitutes 
and dissemblings, those pretences am 
artifices, which are requisite to those 
who do. It is the precept of the apos 
tie, [Phil, 2. 3.] « In lowness o 



OF A WOMAN. 105 

mind, let each esteem others better than 
themselves." 

2. Courtly and affable carriage and 
behaviour are such charms, that they 
endear all, but especially your inferiors, 
to you, and keep up a reputation in 
spite of many blemishes; a pleasant 
word or look from a superior is kindly 
taken, and insensibly steals away the 
heart. A friendly salutation is as easy 
as a frown or a reproach; and a kind- 
ness may be preserved by them, which, 
if once forfeited, will not, at a far 
greater price, be recovered. Besides, 
when vicissitudes are considered, it 
may be a providence to you; the great- 
est persons upon the turn of fortune, 
often stand in need of the assistance of 
the meanest; then you will be sure of 
friends in need to comfort you, and will 
rejoice that, by your affability you have 
linked them to your interest. 

Disdain is contrary to this, and will 
not fail to procure you enemies, as it is 

F 



X 



106 WHOLE DUTY 

itself an enemy to civil society and co 
versation. Frowns, haughty look 
early words, or an expectation of more 
cringing or submission than is due can- 
not be well relished or digested. A 
proud temper is hateful to all, especial- 
ly to those who are of an affable dispo- 
sition; it shows the birth or spirit to be 
mean or poor; and gives a suspicion 
that it is but a pageantry of some mush- 
room newly sprung up that stands so 
stiff; so that, instead of keeping others 
at a distance, it invites them to a near 
inspection; and if there be any flaw, 
either in their life or birth, it will be 
sure to be discovered, there being no 
such prying inquisitor as curiosity urged 
by a sense of contempt. 



OF A WOMAN. 107 

CHAPTER II. 

The Duty of Virgins; directing them 
what to do, and what to avoid, for 
gaining all the Accomplishments re- 
quired in that state; with the whole 
Art of Love; being directions hoic to 
receive the addresses either of No- 
blemen, Gentlemen, or Tradesmen, 
with such prudence as not to be ac- 
counted scornful, morose, or fond; 
icherebh persons of the meanest rank 
may raise their fortunes to the high- 
est pitch of honour and greatness. 

Having given you an account of 
those general qualifications which are 
it once the duty and ornament to your 
sex, there are, notwithstanding, mate- 
rial differences arising from the several 
states and circumstances of life: some 
thereof may require a greater degree 
tf the former virtues, and others dis- 
tinct or peculiar requisites, adapted to 



108 WHOLE DUTY 

their particular state and condition; and 
therefore I propose to consider them in 
their order; that is. Virginity, Marri- 
age, and Widowhood; and which, as 
they differ widely from each other, so, 
for the discharging their respective du- 
ties, there are particular cautions to be 
observed. 

Virginity, or the Virgin State, is 
the first in order. (Childhood I wil- 
lingly pass over, until you arrive at 
the years of discretion, which may be 
properly counted at the age of sixteen 
and so onward.) This is a part of life 
which claims a great share of virtue 
and innocency to set it off with true 
lustre: but, above all, modesty, as it re- 
lates to chastity and decent behaviour 
in which you in this state are more 
especially concerned: for the very name 
of virgin imports a critical niceness in 
this point. Every indecent curiosity, 
or impure fancy, is a deflouring of the 
mind, for even the least corruption to 



OF A WOMAN. 109 

them eives some decree of defilement 
to the body too. For between the state 
of pure unspotted virginity and prosti- 
tution there are not many intermediate 
steps: and if you take any of them, it is 
so far departing from your first integri- 
ty: for she who listens to any wanton 
discourse, has violated her ears; she 
who speaks any, her tongue; and every 
immodest glance vitiates her eyes, and 
even the slightest act of dalliance leaves 
something of a stain behind it. There 
is therefore a most rigorous caution re- 
quired therein: for as nothing is more 
clear and white than perfect virginity, 
so the least soil or spot is the more dis- 
cernible. Besides youth is for the 
most part flexible, and easily warped 
into crookedness, and therefore can ne- 
ver set itself too far from temptation. 
Our tender blossoms we find ourselves 
obliged to screen and shelter, because 
every unkind air nips and destroys 
them — and nothing can be more nice 



HO WHOLE DUTY 

and delicate than maiden virtue, which 
ought not to be exposed to any of those 
malignant airs which may blast or cor- 
rupt it. 

Curiosity in a virgin is often very 
mischievous. It is a temptation which 
foiled human nature even in Paradise, 
and the truth is, an affected ignorance 
cannot be so blameable, in other cases, 
as it is commendable in this ; indeed it 
is the surest and most invincible guard; 
for if you are curious to know indecent 
things, it is odds but you will too soon 
and too dearly pay for that learning. 
The suppressing all such curiosities is 
therefore what I would recommend, as 
it is that which will protect and secure 
all the rest to you. But when you have 
this guard upon yourself, you must like- 
wise provide against the foreign assail- 
ants, the most dangerous whereof I 
take to be, 

Company and Idleness: Against 
the fixst ; provide for* by a prudent 



OF A WOMAN. Hi 

choice of conversation, which should 
generally be with your own sex, who 
will entertain you innocently, if not 
profitably. Against the second, you 
may secure yourself by a constant em- 
ployment in such things as are ingeni- 
ous and worthy of your time: such as 
acquiring any of those ornamental im- 
provements which become your quali- 
ty, as writing, needle-work, painting, 
drawing, languages, music, or the like: 
and if I should here insert the art of 
economy, or the management of house- 
hold affairs, I think 1 should not af- 
front you in it, that being the most pro- 
per feminine business, from which nei- 
ther wealth nor greatness can totally 
absolve vou: and a little of this in 
your parents* houses would much assist 
you in the practice when you come to 
your own. 

As in your behaviour, so in your dress 
and actions be sober and modest, that 
you give no occasion of being charged 



113 WHOLE DUTY 

with affectation: and that you may ap- 
prove yourselves in the sight of Grod, 
by confining yourselves within the 
due limits of decency and decorum. — 
And truly it is not a little that con- 
cerns you so to do, for your age is that 
which must either confirm or blast the 
hopes of all succeeding seasons, with- 
out a wonderful providence. Therefore 
let the severest notions of modesty and 
honour be deeply impressed in your 
minds — graven as with the point of a 
diamond, that they may be as indeli- 
ble as they are indispensable to the vir- 
gin state. 

Obedience is also another very re- 
quisite quality. The younger virgins 
being supposed to have parents, or if 
any have been so unhappy as to lose 
them early, they are left in charge of 
friends or guardians who are to supply 
the place of parents ; to them, obedi- 
ence is to extend itself in all things that 
have no cause of exception, or where 



OF A WOMAN. US 

the injunction is lawful ; and there will 
occur many particular occasions of pay- 
ing great reverence to the judgments of 
your parents or guardians, of having a 
distrust of your own: and should it hap- 
pen that your parents are not qualified 
to give much advice, yet, from the gene- 
ral imbecility of your age, you may with 
more safety venture yourselves to your 
parents' guidance that your own ; for 
humility and obedience are less malig- 
nant than those of presumption and 
arrogance. 

Conduct is next to be considered, of 
which you must be very circumspect, 
and not trust too much upon yourself, 
but rather depend on those whom God 
and nature hath subjected you to. How r 
many poor innocent creatures have been 
indiscreetly ensnared by trusting too 
much on their own judgments, and by 
rejecting the wiser counsels of others ; 
therefore you must not look upon good 
advice as a restraint or burthen, but as 



144 WHOLE DUTY 

your shelter and protection ; for where 
that is wanting, those who have ill de- 
signs will easily get into your compa- 
ny when you are destitute of a guard 
to keep them out ; and then as easily, 
by fulsome compliments and flatteries 
insinuate themselves into your graces, 
while you have not sagacity to discern 
for what insidious purposes they throw 
out a bait for you to nibble at, please 
you with their courtship, and it is great 
odds if you escape the hook. At iirst, 
perhaps, you only like the wit and rail- 
erj, then the graceful language and ad- 
dress, after that the freedom and good 
humour, till at last you come to like 
the person. Therefore it is a necessa- 
ry caution that you consider these par- 
ticulars, lest you be undone by running 
into errors, and cast yourself away be- 
fore you are aware. 

A virgin state, in its natural innocen- 
cy, is the life of an angel ; however, 
since the word of God warrants the ai- 



OF A WOMAN. 115 

teration of their condition, I shall not 
go about to confine your inclination to a 
perpetual continuance of it, but leave 
you free as to that point. She who has 
devoted her heart to God, the better to 
secure her interest against the most in- 
sinuating rival of human love, intends 
to admit none, and prays that she 
may, by those humble purposes, conse- 
crate herself to God ; and is perhaps 
more acceptable than if her presump- 
tion should make her more positive, 
and engage her in a vow she is not 
able to perform. But this is a case that 
needs not much starting in our nation, 
so very few being so far transported 
with the zeal of a voluntary virginity, 
that scarcely are there any who have 
patience in it when necessary ; the old 
maid being looked upon as the most 
unfortunate creature in nature by the 
younger sort, especially of her own sex; 
and I so far yield to the opinion, as to 
confess it is so with those that are kept 



116 WHOLE DUTY 

in that state against their wills, but cer- 
tainly the origin of their misery is from 
the desire, not the restraint of marriage; 
let them but once suppress that, and 
the other will never be their infelicity. 
So that there might be a prevention of 
this impure scandal, if the superanu- 
ated virgins would behave themselves 
with gravity and reservedness, and 
addict themselves to virtue and piety: 
this would give the world cause to be- 
lieve it was not their necessity, but 
their choice which kept them single ; 
and why they did not marry, was, be- 
cause they were pre-engaged to a better 
and more pure passion, and espoused to 
the heavenly bridegroom: This would 
give them, among the sober sort at least, 
the reverence and esteem of their neigh- 
tions. But since the maine end of 
creation was to increase the world, 
without which it would soon become a 
silent desert or wilderness, and to the 
end that propagation might be continu- 



OF A WOMAN. 117 

ed, God, the all- wise Creator, has ad- 
ded desires, and where those desires 
are prevalent, it is but proper that the 
design of them should be answered in 
chaste marriage, when it is allowed. 

There are, therefore, but a few more 
propositions 1 shall lay down in a vir- 
gin state, before I shall endeavour to 
instruct you in entering on the marriage- 
state; so as to lead you thence into it by 
the most advantageous ways and me- 
thods; and beginning with suitable and 
sincere affections, it must, by a contin- 
ual mutual love, end in the wished -for 
felicity, which every one of you desire 
when you enter into it. 

Friendship is in a particular man- 
ner recommended to you as a thing 
of great weight and moment; and it 
is your business, as you value your 
reputation and welfare, to make a pru- 
dent choice of those whom you en- 
trust in this matter. Do not bestow 
your friendship too lavishly at first. 



118 WHOLE DUTY 

since, like other .things, it will be the 
sooner exhausted ; neither let it be of 
too swift a progress, for that is a cer- 
tain sign it will not be of long contin- 
uance ; and you will be responsible to 
the world by taking those into your es- 
teem as friends who are undeserving, 
for in that case you will bring yourself 
under the disadvantage of their charac- 
ter. 

If it happens after, that those you 
have contracted friendship with, should 
depart from the rules of virtue, you 
ought, however, not to be overhasty in 
a belief at the beginning, but being well 
in formed of the truth, you must, with- 
out breaking too abruptly, make a fair 
and quick retreat from such mistaken 
acquaintance, lest their scandal and 
guilt injure your name and reputation. 
And this is so nice a point, that you 
must not be ready to join in the cen- 
sure of your friends ; nor on the other 
side, to defend them with too much 



OF A WOMAN. 1 19 

warmth ; for if the report be true, you 
will draw an ill appearance on yourself, 
and it will be conjectured, you plead 
in this case not without some consider- 
ation to yourself ; your ignorance may 
lessen the guilt, but will improve the 
censure of the just upon you. Let the 
good sense of those you contract friend- 
ship with be a chief ingredient in your 
choice of them, else, let your reputation 
be ever so clear, it may be clouded by 
their faults. 

Censure is to be avoided as much 
as may be, either by you or others, 
living so that you give no occasion for 
it ; and before you pass it on others, let 
the cause be well considered; and when 
you do it, dwell not too long about it, 
but give a gentle touch, and pass it 
over, unless you can do good by it in 
reclaiming vice and promoting virtue : 
and this must be done as privately as 
may be, lest the party, judging unchari- 
tably of your intention, run into worse 






120 WHOLE DUTY 

occasions of scandal, and reflect upon 
you for making ill-timed reproaches 
Virtue, which is appareled with thorns 
is too rough for this age, and therefore 
it inust, to make it the more pleasing, 
be adorned with some flowers, or else 
in these particulars, it will be ill taken; 
so that where it may be fit to strike, do 
it as gently as you can ; do it in th 
tenderness of your sex ; and then you 
may assure yourself, that where you 
do it, you will wound them more, and 
do less hurt to yourself, by a gentle 
stroke, than by being severe and vio- 
lent. Be, therefore, quick in seeing 
faults, that you may avoid them in 
yourself, but slow r in expressing them. 
You are in all other cases to consi- 
der the' invisible thing called a good 
name, it is made up of the breath of 
numbers that speak w ell of you, so that 
if by a disobliging word, you offend the 
meanest, the gale which is to bear up 
your esteem ; will lose its strength; and 



OF A WOMAN. 1S1 

though nothing is so vain as the too earn- 
est pursuit of empty applause, yet to be 
kindly used, and well thought of by 
the world, is like a glory round a wo- 
man's head ; it is like perfume that 
scents wherever it goeth; it is a charm 
agaiust spite and ill-will. Malice 
may empty her quiver without wound- 
ing ; for without the consent of the 
world, a scandal doth not go deep ; it 
is only a light stroke upon the injured 
party, returning with greater force upon 
the infiictor. 

Behaviour and Conversation. In 
these you must take virtue and prudence 
alone: with you for your guide : Fe vi- 
gilant and cautions, because in this par- 
ticular you will have many eyes upon 
you ; yet not altogether excluding; a 
mixture of freedom, so far as it may be 
innocently and seasonaMv timed : yejtj 
should you #m } this make y\ Vet 

to censure, you must in some re 

restrain it ; for if you see the danger at 
G 



133 WHOLE DUTY 






ever so great a distance, it will be ne- 
cessary at that time to shorthen the 
line of liberty; for when you allow your- 
yourself to go the extent of every thing 
that is lawful, you are so very near go- 
ing farther, that those who lie in watch 
will begin to notice you. Mankind, 
from the double temptation of vanity 
and desire, are very ready to construe 
evey thing a woman doth to favour their 
purposes ; but few will make an im- 
prudent attempt, till they have some 
glimmering of encouragement. It is 
more safe therefore to prevent such for- 
wardness, than go about to cure it; 
because, from being once allowed, it 
soon gathereth strength, and soon 
claims a right from having been suffer- 
ed before with impunity. Therefore in 
all your conversation avoid such civili- 
ty as may, in this matter, be taken for 
an invitation : beware how you bring a 
cloud upon your reputation, in giving 
way to that which many women call an 



"S 



OF A WOMAN. l&J 

innocent liberty or freedom; for there 
are many of our sex that will be ready 
to help on the least appearance, that 
giveth a handle to be ill-turned. They 
will not be displeased to improve their 
own value at the loss of your reputa- 
tion ; for it distinguishes them the 
more, exalts their credit higher, and 
like a picture, set off with shades, they 
seem fairer when they make your ac- 
tions to be less innocent than theirs : 
and it seems to them that their load of 
infamy is lessened by throwing part of 
it upon others ; so that they will not 
only improve when itlieth in their way, 
but take pains to find out the least mis- 
take an innocent woman committeth, 
in revenge of the supposed injury she 
does, in leading a life which is a re- 
proach to them. 

However, even to the other sex, you 
must shun ill-bred affected shyness, 
nor use an unsuitable roughness to your 
own ; for these are unnecessary to your 



124 WHOLE DUTY 






virtue. But you must take up a way 
of living that may prevent all raileries 
or unmannerly freedoms: carry looks 
that may forbid without rudeness, and 
oblige without invitation ; but this is 
so nice, that it must engage you to 
have a perpetual watch upon your eyes, 
that no careless glances give more ad- 
vantage than words ; for those may 
be thrown out at random, and bear 
doubtful meaning ; but men look on the 
eyes as the heart's interpreters, and 
gather more assurance from them of 
encouragement than from the tongue ; 
their language being more significant 
and observable to men. 

Your Civility must be always pre 
served, but not by any means be carri 
ed to a compliance, which may betra; 
you into irrecoverable mistakes ; fo] 
the doubtful word compliance has lei 
more of our sex into blame than al 
other things, carrying them by degrees 
into a thing called a good kind of a wo- 



OF A WOMAN. 125 

man, an easy idle creature, that hath 
neither good nor ill but by chance : not 
having judgment or choice, but leaveth 
those to the company she converses 
with to frame and determine for her. 

Diversion is some amusement or re- 
lief from the toils of life : a refresh- 
ment both of the body and mind. This 
must be moderate and suitable ; but be 
not too eager in the pursuit of pleasure; 
for that, whilst you are young, is dan- 
gerous, and to catch at it in riper years 
is grasping a shadow : for then, being 
less natural, it grows indecent; and 
indeed, though you suppose to have it, 
you will find your mistake, or at least 
cannot hold it. 

Diversions are most properly appli- 
ed to ease, and relieves those who are 
oppressed by being too much employ- 
ed. Those who are idle have less 
need of them, yet, above all others, 
they are most given to them. To un- 
bend our thoughts, when they are over- 



1@6 WHOLE DUTY 

stretched with too much care, is ni 
ral and necessary : but to turn your 
whole life into one large holiday, not 
only palls the pleasure, but renders you 
ridiculous. 

The mind, as well as the body, is 
tired by being always in some employ- 
ment : too serious breaks it, and too 
diverting loosens it ; it is only variety 
that giveth the savoury relish : a fre- 
quent repetition grows first to indiffer- 
ence, and after becomes tedious ; but 
whilst they are well chosen and well 
timed, they cannot be blameable : yet, 
to make yourself cheap by trying others 
with your diversions, is one of the 
meanest things that can be done. 

To play even to entertain com- 
pany, or to divert yourself, is not al- 
lowable: but to do it often, so as to be 
called a gamester, is utterly to be avoid- 
ed, next to things that are criminal. It 
engages you to a habit of idleness and 
to bad hours, and often introduces you 



OF A WOMAN. 127 

to ill-mixed company, and to acquain- 
tance that will not be for your credit. 
And indeed, if you should see your faces 
upon an ill -game, at a deep stake, you 
would certainly desist from any thing 
that could put your looks under such a 
disadvantage. 

To dance, or play on any suitable 
instrument of music, is commendable ; 
but in the first place, remember the end 
of your learning it was that you might 
better know how to move gracefully, 
for it is only an advantage so far ; and 
to go beyond it, as excelling in danc- 
ing, is no great commendation. As 
for music, it is to delight the sadness 
of the mind, and smooth the hours of 
melancholy, but be careful not to do 
this too often because you do it well; 
the safest method is to do it only in 
private company, among particular 
friends, and then carelessly, like a di- 
version, and not with study and so- 



1£8 WHOLE DUTY 

kmnity, as if it were a business, or 
yourself over much affected with it. 

Your benaviour to your superiors 
must be what is seemly and becoming, 
that is, with such civility and obliging 
respectfulness as may win upon them, 
not only to esteem you, but rank you 
among the number of their friends, and 
speak well of your deportment and de- 
meanor, as one of a polite education 
ana good parts. 

Your equals must be treated with that 
civility and freedom the occasion re- 
quires, lest you be reflected on as proud 
and conceited. A young lady or gen- 
tle-woman will find a great uneasiness 
in conversation, if she appears solicit- 
ous to engross all respect to herself: you 
ought therefore to be contented with a 
reasonable share, and allow it to others, 
that you may have it returned to you. 
You must not be troublesomely nice, or 
discover yourself to be too delicate, as if 



OF A WOMAN. 129 

ordinary tilings were too coarse for you: 
this is an unmannerly and offensive 
pride, and where it is practised de- 
serves to be mortified, which indeed is 
often the case. You are not to dwell 
too much on your quality, but seem low 
in your own opinion, that others may 
exalt you: your fame sounding far more 
sweet in the mouths of others than in 
your own. 

Your inferiors expect courtesy and 
obliging condescensions towards them; 
and in doing tliem all the good offices 
you can, it will much endear you to 
them; and, indeed, this many times 
keeps up a reputation in spite of blem- 
ishes. A kind word, or pleasing look, 
from a superior, is strangely charming, 
and rivets their affections to you; which 
consideration made the wise man pre- 
fer a good word before a gift. It is a 
cheap way of gaining love. A frown, 
or a reproach, puts you io more trouble 
than good words, or an affable, smiling 



130 WHOLE DUTY 

temper. It was the saying of a good 
emperor, that he would so entertain 
the addresses of his subjects, as, if he 
were, a subject, he would wish the 
prince should so entertain him; tins is 
a rule very worthy to guide all persons, 
especially those of honour, in their in- 
tercourse with others. And when you 
meet with cold neglectful treatment 
from any above you, then reflect, that 
if you give the like to those below you, 
they will doubtless have the same 
sense, and be the like hurt; and there- 
fore resolve never to offer wiiat you so 
much dislike to bear; and by thus do- 
ing you will convert an injury into a 
benefit. You will civilize yourself by 
the rudeness of others, and make their 
ill-nature your own discipline. Some 
indeed make quality an idol, and 
their reason must fall down and wor- 
ship it. They would have the world 
think that no amends can be made for 
the want of a great title or ancient coat 



OF A WOMAN. 131 

of arms. They imagine, that with 
these advantages they stand upon the 
higher ground, which makes them look 
down on merit and virtue as things in- 
ferior to them. This mistake is not 
only senseless, but criminal too ; for 
it is estimating themselves upon the ac- 
quirements of their ancestors, rather 
than upon things which are valuable 
in themselves. 



THE WHOLE ART OF LOVE. 

Having well considered and duly 
weighed the former virtues and accom- 
plishments, both divine and moral, I 
suppose you now at years capable of 
entering into the holy state of matri- 
mony, ordained at first by God in pa- 
radise, and since not onlv in sacred 
writ, but highly esteemed by all civi 



130 WHOLE DUTY 

lized nations. And that you may not 
rash upon so weighty a thing rashly, 
or unadvisedly, 1 shall, (to conclude 
the virgin state,) lay down some rules 
and directions, that will not only be a 
sure and safe conduct to such as are 
placed in stations of eminence, but even 
to those of lower degree, so that the 
meanest may raise her fortune by them; 
for I have often observed, through cau- 
tious and prudent management in mat- 
ters of love, many poor virgins have 
been initiated into families by marri- 
age who have been not barely enriched 
by them, but given such reputation and 
credit by their virtues, that they have 
outshone those who but a little before 
looked down upon them with contempt. 
Love is the noblest passion of the 
mind, and therefore ought to be enter- 
tained as it deserves. It may be di- 
vided into two branches, divine and 
human, and not confounded in itself, 



OF A WOMAN. 133 

unless abused or jostled out of its cen- 
tre; or, to speak more properly, the 
shadow represented for the substance. 
The first part has been in a great mea- 
sure laid down in the foregoing dis- 
courses: therefore 1 shall only touch 
lightly on it in the second — my intent 
being to instruct virgins, of all degrees 
and qualities, in the guidance of their 
fancies — and also to discover those de- 
signs and counterfeited pretences which 
are too often used to ensnare their affec- 
tions. 

You of the higher rank, who stand 
as it were upon pinnacles, and are 
more conspicuous to the eyes of the 
world, must move in this great business 
with the most exact caution, and regard 
to your virtues. Keep your eyes and 
tongue within command, that you may 
render civility when it is discreetly to 
be done — yet do not give, by glances 
or expressions, such encouragement as 
may turn to your prejudice: for men 



134 WHOLE DUTY 



are always on the watch to lay hold of 
an opportunity, and nothing gives them 
greater hopes than to see a young 
lady free of temper, forward in talking, 
and willing to entertain them with her 
discourse, to appear, as she supposes, 
witty: or, as some do, to speak loud, 
to be more noticed: which looks as if 
they beat their drums for volunteers: 
but rather, in all your behaviour and 
carriage iu this nice mattej, you must 
be extremely circumspect neither to 
provoke nor entice, till you know upon 
what foundation you are; it must be 
such as may secure you without offend- 
ing. Use neither affected shyness nor 
unseemly roughness, but carry such 
looks as may forbid without indecency, 
and oblige (as far as. it is reasonable) 
witnout invitation; for a little compli- 
ance in this case, if not very cautious, 
may betray you into irrecoverable mis- 
takes ; for that which you may caV 
compliance will have another construe 



1 



@F A WOMAN. 135 

tion, and make you be thought too 
fond, which leaves a blemish in lessen- 
ing your value. But above all these, 
beware of the vanity of conquest ; it is 
a dangerous experiment, and general- 
ly fails, being built upon so weak a 
foundation as that of too great a con- 
fidence in ourselves; and it is as safe to 
play with fire as dally with gallantry, 
for in this you conspire against your- 
self, till the humble suitor, assisted by 
the insinuations of love in your breast, 
very often becomes a conqueror. He 
assumes the carriage of a victor, and 
from an admirer grows into a master ; 
for so he may be termed from the mo- 
ment he is in possession. The first 
resolutions of stopping at good opinion 
and esteem, grow weaker by degrees 
against the charms of courtship skill- 
fully applied. You may be apt to 
thiuk a man speaks so much reason 
whilst he is commend ins vou, that vou 
will have much ado to believe him in 



136 WHOLE DUTY 

the wrong when he is making love to 
you: and when, besides the natural in- 
ducements our sex have to be merciful,, 
you are bribed by well-timed flattery, 
then the danger is very great ; it is 
like a bird listening to the call of one 
who has laid a snare for it. 

You are to consider, that men, who 
say extreme fine things, many times say 
them most for their own sakes : and 
that the vain gallant is often as well 
pleased with his own compliments as 
he could be with the kindest answer: 
and where there is that ostentation, 
you are to suspect there is a design: for 
as strong perfumes are not used but 
where they are necessary to smother 
unpleasant scents, so excessive good 
words give reason to think they are 
spread to cover something which is to 
gain admittance under a disguise; and 
therefore you must be upon your guard: 
and onsWer of the two, that respect 
in this case is more dangerous than an- 



OF A WOMAN. 137 

ger, by reason that it puts the best un- 
derstandings out of their place, until 
second thoughts restore them; it steals 
insensibly upon you, and throws down 
your defences, and then it is too late to 
resist; and after it has seized the under- 
standing, it ensnares you: therefore the 
safest way is to treat it like a sly ene- 
my, and to be perpetually upon the 
watch against it. 

Having given these cautions to steer 
a safe course in a dangerous sea, where 
so many rocks and sands lie hid under 
the waves, which if not carefully avoid- 
ed, will fatally wreck the happy days 
of your life, I come to the next parti- 
culars, in which 1 shall set down, 
" How you ought to receive the ad- 
dresses of love when generous, and 
made by those who are deserving, and 
suitable to your station " 

Let this be observed as your best 
guide, That you hearken not (if you 
are young, and have parents and friends 
H 



138 WHOLE DUTY 

to rely on) to any proposals of marri- 
age made to you without their advice; 
remove the address from yourself, and 
direct it to them, which will be the best 
proof imaginable against any preten- 
der; for if he knows himself worthy of 
you, he will not scruple to avow his de- 
sign to them. If he declines it, you 
may be satisfied he is conscious of 
something that will not bear investiga- 
tion. This course will not repel an 
honourable suitor, but may detect a dis- 
honourable one: besides, it is most 
agreeable to virgin modesty; for those 
who think their friends too slow-paced 
in this affair, and seek to outrun them, 
give cause to suspect they are spurred 
on by somewhat too warm desires. 

If their consent be gained, and you 
are attached to the party, you have the 
more warrantable ground for the plac- 
ing of your affections, if, upon strict 
scrutiny, and deliberate observation on 
|ke temper, agreeableness, humour, for- 



OF A WOMAN. 139 

tune, 8£c. you find him deserving of it: 
yet, let not the conquest be too easy, 
lest it may afterwards be accounted 
cheap. Carry yourself with even tern 
per and deportment : and as your 
kindles, be sure to keep it from blaz- 
ing outwardly; forbid, as much as 
may be, all unseasonable visits, and 
private retirements, that may cause 
suspicion. Use civility and modest 
respect, but no toying or familiarity, 
lest your show of too early fondness 
flag the soaring wings of his passion: 
for that which is hardest to be got is 
ever most coveted; and that which is 
easy, is rejected. I have known a 
young lady frustrated in her love by 
being too forward or fantastical in her 
'humours; for sober men, who know 
how {o, value you, are not only nice, 
but quick- sighted, to pry into your in- 
clinations; and he who will choose a 
wife with those imperfections, under- 
stands but little what marriage is, as it 



140 WHOLE DUTY 

promises no felicity to hiin; but if you 
desire to marry well, that is, to a man 
of sobriety and discretion, yon are 
bound in justice to bring him those good 
qualities he expects with you. 

This may be that which keeps many 
young ladies so long unmarried, till 
they lose the epithet of young. Sober 
men are afraid to venture upon a tem- 
per so disagreeable to their own, lest, 
in seeking a help, they espouse a ruin. 
Let your choice, therefore, be prudent 
and agreeable, as much as is reasona- 
ble with your years, that love may in- 
crease with your age; for if you give 
your hand without your heart, for a 
title, a great estate, or any other consi- 
deration, expect the marriage to be com- 
fortless, encumbered with more disap- 
pointments, troubles, and vexations, 
than you can expect joys to flow in it, 
or proceed from it. 

Thus having stated the first degree 
of love, which might have extended to 



OF A WOMAN. 141 

many, I shall descend a little lower, 
for fuller satisfaction to those virgins 
who hold a middle rank, or station in 
the world. An unhappy marriage is 
by you much to be avoided, if you re- 
gard your happiness in this world. — 
You cannot expect such state and at- 
tendance in courtship as those in higher 
rank; and therefore you must not carry 
it with so high a hand; however, your 
caution and vigilance ought to be no 
less; but be careful to avoid all pettish, 
peevish niceness, as you would shun the 
intrusion of disagreeable pretenders; 
for that will brand you with a name of 
haughty and proud, and frighten those 
from you that might really deserve your 
affection, yet could not fancy your hu- 
mours, though they might well enough 
be enamoured of your person. Let 
your looks, then, and your demeanor, 
be sober and courteous to those of merit, 
and cast no disdain or scorn on any. — 
If your admirer be troublesome, make 



142 WHOLE DUTY 

it your business to shun him, especially 
at unseasonable times, or modestly re- 
prove his overboldness; dislike any pre- 
tensions he may claim to familiarities, 
that seem to you unreasonable. A so- 
ber reproof sooner daunts the forward 
than words delivered in a heat or pas- 
sion: for though some find they cannot 
gain their ends, yet seeing you prone to 
anger, they will hardly refrain continu- 
ing their addresses, if it be only to make 
you injure yourself by vexatious fret- 
ting, and uneasiness of temper. 

As your words and carriage are so- 
ber, so let your apparel be modest and 
decent, according to your degree: for a 
sober man looks upon a woman that 
makes dress her chief care, and thinks 
she is more beholden to the mantua-ma- 
ker than nature, for setting her off to 
advantage, only as a gaudy idol, to 
whom, if once he becomes united, he 
must not only sacrifice a grfeat part of 
his fortune, but all his content: and 



OF A WOMAN. 14*3 

proofs of this too many considerable 
families too sadly attest; for when a 
man sees such an airy, empty thing 
sail up and down her father's house, 
and look as if she came only to make a 
visit, or finds her extremely busy about 
some very senseless and useless thing, 
his passion, though before a good deal 
kindled, will soon expire; and he will 
blame himself that he could have been 
so far mistaken as to have made his ad- 
dresses to a gilded butterfly, which, be- 
fore making these observations, he had 
considered as the rarest jewel in nature. 
Be sober in your carriage, and mo- 
dest in your apparel and behaviour: 
deliver not your speeches affectedly, as 
if you had studied them, yet be heed- 
ful in your discourse, that neither any 
distaste be given by throwing out jests 
or unreasonably finding faults where 
you would not have them resented. If 
by importunity you are prevailed on to 
go abroad with your suitor, though up- 



144 



WHOLE DUTY 



on the eve of marriage, do it not alow* 
but have one of your own sex to be wit- 
ness of what passes between you, lest 
by some accident, matters breaking be- 
tween you, will give occasion for scan- 
dalizing persons to reflect on your vir- 
tue and good name, and raise suspicions 
in their own fancies, that, spreading, 
may be received as truth by others to 
the prejudice of your fortune. Coi 
ply not to give your hand before you 
have well weighed and considered what 
you are about to undertake. Let not 
love blind you, but make your choice 
with the eyes of reason, and then you 
are the least apt to be deceived. Con- 
sider not of riches and high birth so 
much as virtue and agreeableness. 
Those who marry for a title and estate, 
more than the person, seldom have any 
happy days in marriage, and then the 
main end of it is lost; for if the mar- 
riage state be begun with sacrilegious 
hypocrisy, in vowing to love where you 



OF A WOMAN. 145 

like not, it must be wretched, and then 
it had better not have been at all. 

There is a lower degree of virgins, 
who have as much claim, by the right 
of creation, to marriage, as any of the 
higher or middle ranks; and these, for 
the most part, are such as fortune hath 
reduced by the unthriftiness of their 
parents to rely upon others, as servants, 
&c. You of this rank, by behaving 
yourselves modestly and discreetly, 
standing on your guard, and not easily 
believing pretensions made you, which 
are many times designed upon your 
chastity without intention of marriage, 
though perhaps solemnly protested, 
may have your lots fall in so fair a link 
as may enable you, who are servants 
to become mistresses, and consequently 
happy all your days. Of these I might 
give you many instances; for where 
men first pretend on design, and find 
themselves opposed by virtue and mo- 
desty, it insensibly ensnares them many 



i46 WHOLE DVTS 






times into the passion of love; and com- 
pels them to admire, what before, conh 
they have debauched, tney would hav 
detested, and change their lawless lov 
into a lawful marriage. 

But be not, however, so rash as noi 
first to examine how much it is to youi 
interest to contrive for things after mar- 
riage. The thought of your future 
temporal condition (like those of eter- 
nal) should be well considered; and do 
not forget yourself so much as not to 
find room for other concerns amidst 
your fond raptures: yet, though love 
may have some weight, you must not 
depend on that, and take no further 
care; but look before you, and consider 
the charge before you enter upon it; 
think how to live, and live happily; 
and so shall your wedding-day be a 
day of joy indeed. 



OF A WOMAN. 147 

CHAPTER III. 

Of the Marriage State; directing Wo- 
men how to behave themselves to- 
wards their Husbands, Children, 
Servants, and Relations, in all af- 
fairs, both abroad and at home. 

Having now led you through the 
virgin state, 1 will next bring you to 
that change of condition which is called 
a marriage state, and is launching into 
a wide ocean compared with the former; 
for here, as you marry the person, so 
do you his obligations; and wherever 
he, by ties of nature and alliance, owes 
a reverence or kindness, you are no less 
a debtor; your marriage is an adoption 
into his family; and therefore you are 
to pay respect to every branch of it, 
whatever their stations respectively re- 
quire. But this state, for brevity sake, 
1 shall reduce under these heads, or 
considerations, viz. 



148 WHOLE DUTY 

A Wife, a Mother, and a Mis 

TRESS. 

I. A Wife has her duty to observ 
in several respects, as relates 

1. To her husband's person, 

2. To his reputation, 

3. To his fortune, 

4. To his friends and relations. 
To his person, in the first place, is 

owing the debt of love, a prime article 
in the marriage vow, and indeed the 
most essential requisite; for without it, 
there is nothing in marriage comfortable: 
for where this is wanted, marriage is on- 
ly an empty name, or what is worse, ty- 
ranny on the husband's part and slavery 
on the wife's; unless by struggling, she 
gets dominion, and then it grows worse. 
Therefore, as it is necessary to bring 
a large degree of love to this state, so 
it is also necessary to continue and im- 
prove it; for this it is which makes easy 
all other duties of marriage; therefore, 
Jbaving entered into it, your chief care 



IM M^MM 



OF A WOMAN. 149 

and study should be to preserve this 
flame, that, like the vestal fire, it may 
never go out. And to that end care- 
fully guard it from those things which 
are apt to extinguish it, as forwardness, 
perverseness of temper, and morose 
behaviour, which, by taking off the 
delight and complacency of conversa- 
tion, will, by degrees, wear out the 
kindness, and overturn the empire of 
love. 

Above all things, avoid jealousy; for 
that even puts out the last spark of the 
torch of love as well as the flame, and 
will make bitter all the sweets of life; 
and if you desire to live without the 
greatest torture of life, avoid it yourself, 
by not giving heed to idle reports, nay, 
nor very probable ones, if you love your 
own ease or quiet. So on your part, be 
nicely careful not to give your husband 
umbrage, or colour for it, though in an 
innocent freedom or conversation, where 
he seems to dislike it; for this is a fire 



150 WHOLE DUTY 



that kindles with a spark, and soon 
bursts out into a violent flame, hardly* 
if ever, to be extinguished. 

3. You must also be careful of his 
good name and reputation, for therein 
your own interest is concerned; and if 
blots fasten on him, the censorious 
world will not spare to stain you, and 
you are liable to share with him in that 
as well as in other things; for if he suf- 
fers in that, you cannot escape. 

3. If crosses and misfortunes should 
decline your fortu ne, and prosperity take 
her flight, your love must not decline 
with it, but rather shine in a higher per- 
fection, that it may be evident you loved 
his person more than his wealth; for, 
indeed, herein the virtue of a wife is 
more evidently shown than in prospe- 
rity it could be, where no trials offer. 

If a husband prove not what you ex- 
pected in regard to temper and good 
humour, yet by kindness from you 
lie may in time become better. Consi- 



OF A WOMAN. 151 

der, then, since the greatest share of 
reason is bestowed on man as the law- 
giver, our sex is the better prepared for 
the compliance; and although this may 
seem something unpleasing at first, up- 
on examination it will be found, that 
nature is so far from being unjust to us, 
that she is partial on our side; and for 
the seeming injustice, has made us large 
amends, by the right of complaining 
being come over to us; and it is in our 
power not only to free ourselves, but 
subdue our masters, and without vio- 
lence throw both their natural and legal 
authority at our feet. The sexes are 
made of different tempers, that the de- 
fects may be the better supplied by 
mutual assistance. Our sex wants the 
other's reason for our protection; they 
w r ant our gentleness to soften and en- 
tertain them; our looks have more 
strength than their laws; there is more 
power in our tears than in their argu- 
ments; and therefore things prudently 



i 



±52 WHOLE DUTY 

managed, will, by degrees, bring over 
a husband to see his errors, and by 
acknowledging his failings, take care 
for the future to amend them; but then 
the wife's gentleness and virtue must 
be the mirror wherein he may see the 
deformity of his irregularities. 

4. Something more is to be said as 
to your conduct and behaviour to his 
relations and friends: for many times 
a slight regard of them makes wide 
breaches in a family: you may be sure 
they will not fail to resent any sensible 
mark of disrespect — and will be sure 
to stir up your husband's anger against 
you, especially when he considers him- 
self injured by it, and therefore you 
must be careful to carry yourself even 
with them: for the family into which 
you are ingrafted will generally be apt 
to expect, that like a stranger in a 
foreign country, you should, in a great 
measure, conform to their methods, and 
not bring in a new model by your an- 



OF A WOMAN. 13^ 

thority; and, that you may with the 
less difficulty afterwards give your di- 
rections, you ought to take them first 
from your husband's friends, if an op- 
portunity offers to gain them, by early 
applying to them ; and they will be so 
satisfied when they are complied with, 
that they will strive which of them 
shall most recommend you. Consider 
where a husband is governed, as it 
were, by his friends, he is easily in- 
flamed by them ; and he that is not so, 
will notwithstanding, for his own sake, 
expect to have them considered : for it 
is a point of honour in a husband, not 
to have his relations neglected ; and 
nothing will be found more dangerous, 
or produce more unhappiness in the 
marriage state, than to raise an objec- 
tion against any of them, founded on 
caprice, for it is the most stubborn and 
lasting ; therefore use them well, and 
be well with them, and they will not 
fail to support you in your husband's 
I 



154: WHOLE DUTY 

love ; and then if discontents arise, it is 
your own fault. 

The next thing I am to lay down in 
the state of marriage, is the office and 
duty of a 

Mother : And this will branch out 
many ways ; but many of them not be 
ing very important, 1 shall only reduce 
them under two heads, viz. 

Love and Care. A mother is a 
title of so much tenderness, that we 
find it borrowed by our common dialect 
to express the tenderest of all kindness; 
so that nature seem-* sufficient to have 
secured the love of a mother towards 
the fruit of her womb without the aid 
©f any positive law. The love of pa- 
rents, however the children may after- 
wards prove, ought, and, indeed, does 
naturally, descend and move violently 
downwards. The love of children to 
their parents commonly needs a spur, 
wbile iliat of the mother frequently re- 
quires a bridle ; who by strength of fe- 



OF A WOMAN. 155 

uiinine affection, usually exceeds the 
father. 

Therefore to regulate this affection, 
you should observe these two rules, 

1. That you hurt not yourself by this 
excess. 

2. That you hurt not your children, 
Therefore whether a child be beauti- 
ful or homely, it should make no differ- 
ence in your maternal care and affec- 
tion; because they proceed from you, 
and it is not in the power of the infant 
to form itself; but it is formed in the 
womb by the wonderful workings of 
the Almighty (rod, and shaped as he 
pleases; and many times y to mend the 
defect, a distorted body is endowed 
■with a beautiful soul; when that cast in 
a fairer mould, to outward appearance, 
is an idiot; or, like a picture, only re- 
presenting a proper stature to the eye, 
without intellectual faculties to make 
what it represents ; in this case, a mo- 
ther who pretends to virtue must make 



156 WHOLE DUTY 

no difference, but divide her affections 
so that they may be moderate, and no 
infringe on that love she owes her Ma- 
ker; and if you exceed in this, yo 
hurt yourself, and bring on his wrath 
in punishment here, and if not repent- 
ed of, perhaps eternally hereafter. 

Secondly, as 1 have already hinted, 
you hurt your children much, if you do 
not bring them up in due obedience 
and respect towards you ; for when 
you neglect that strict government 
which in many- cases is required, and 
an over indulgence will not permit you 
to exercise your authority over them, 
nor w r ill suffer others to do it, then, for 
your not exercising that authority, 
thfey will, without a wonderful Provi- 
dence, grow stubborn and headstrong 
as they grow in years. Keep them out 
of the hearing of vain words, or any 
thing that may tend to vitiate their 
tender years : for in all matters res- 
pecting the virtuous education of your 



OF A WOMAN. 157 

children, you are not accountable to 
yourself, but to God. He seems to 
say to you as king Pharaoh's daugh- 
ter did to the mother of Moses, " Take 
this child, and nurse it for me. 9 ' The 
end for which he gives them is that they 
should be brought up in his fear, that 
they may live, grow up, and die in 
his favour : and then you may have the 
comfort of meeting them again in an 
eternity of blessedness, never more to 
be separated : and this will certainly 
add to those joys that in themselves are 
very excellent, that you have brought 
forth and trained up your children to 
live and be with Christ in his kingdom 
of glory. 

The best way of approving your 
love towards your childen is, by duty 
and care. Without this all the most 
passionate raptures of kindness are 
but as an airy apparition, a fantastical 
scene, and v, ill no more benefit a child 
than the picture of food will nourish it. 



158 WHOLE DUTY 

Nor is this care a temporary or momen- 
tary duty, but it must continue throng 
the several stages of infancy, child 
hood, and youth. 

The first of these is a season only 
for those cares that concern the bodies 
of your children, by providing for their 
careful attendance, and all things con- 
ducive to strengthen their constitu- 
tions, to lay a foundation for future 
health and vigour ; the good tempera- 
ture of the body being a great aid to- 
wards the free operations of the mind. 
But this health is not always the conse- 
quence of nice breeding, for that many 
times overthrows it, when inuring them 
to moderate hardships, seldom fails of 
giving a strong and healthy constitu 
tiou. Too much feeding and delica- 
cies breed disorders, by reason of a 
weak digestion, to which most children 
in their infancy are subject ; and the 
superabundance of humours breeding 
diseases which often become habitual. 



OF A WOMAN. 159 

or too sadly end in an early death ; 
when moderate feeding, and exposing 
them to the fresh air abroad, gives 
them strength and refreshment; for 
when nature is not overloaded, she 
makes a due digestion, which turns to 
sweet and wholesome blood and kind- 
ly humours; but being overloaded, 
or oppressed, she is in a manner suffo- 
cated, and cannot exercise her functions 
to proper advantage; and as tor a tree- 
breathing air, refined from damps and 
grossness, it rarities the lungs and vi- 
tal spirits, and is the great refresher of 
life. 

Secondly. When they are past in- 
fancy, if you doat so as to hoodwink 
yourself, because you will not see their 
faults, or manacle your handsthat you 
cannot chastise them, then it w ill be 
imputed to you, if their vices grow 
up with them ; and you will find 
little comfort in them in the end, though 
you promise yourself ever so much. — 



160 



WHOLE DUTY 



But bring them up in the strict rules of 
virtue, and so when grown up they will 
bless you, not only as their parent, but 
preserver ; and secure to them the fu- 
ture happiness of life. For if you per- 
mit them to run on in their own vain 
devices, in hope that time may aitei 
them, by making them see their folly 
and grow wiser, you will be too oftei 
miserably deceived; for as their joint* 
knit and gather strength, so do their ill 
habits, till at last thej are confirmed ii 
obstinacy : and by that means you will 
set them in perfect opposition to whal 
they should perform. For as Christ's 
childhood increased in wisdom and the 
divine favour, (Luke, ii.) so will 
theirs increase in all those provoking 
follies which turn aside the love of 
God and man. And then, alas! what 
recompense can the caresses of a moth- 
er make her children for such unheeded 
and neglected mischief ! So that, if you 
would be really kind, you must tern- 



OF A WOMAN. 161 

per your indulgence with a prudent se- 
verity, or else you will do that to them 
which Jacob feared from his father, 
" Bring a curse upon them, and not a 
blessing," (Gen. xxvii.^ 

Thirdly. In the next period, when 
they are arrived at years of reason and 
growth, when you may be more fami- 
liar with them, having before learned 
them their distance and duty, allow 
them such a kind and modest freedom, 
that they may have pleasure in your 
conversation, and not be tempted to 
seek it in others. That your kindness 
may supplant the pretensions of mean 
sycophants, who by their flatteries en- 
deavour to ingratiate themselves into 
their good opinion, and become their 
confidants ; than which, especially to 
daughters, there is nothing more mis- 
chievous, in teaching them disobedience 
by buzzing into their ears the wild no- 
tions of unbounded liberty and freedom, 
which lectures they should not be so 



46£ WHOLE DUTY 

often exposed to. Besides these inti- 
macies are often introductions to worse: 
many scandalous amours and unequal 
matches have had their rise from the 
them. It must therefore be your busi- 
ness to prevent all such pernicious 
leagues by pre-engaging them in more 
safe familiarities, either with yourself, 
or some others of whose virtues you 
have reason to be satisfied. 

But the most infallible security 
against this and all other mischief, is to 
bring them up to an intimacy and con 
versation with their Maker, by fixin 
a true sense of religion in their souls 
and if that can effectually be done, 
will supersede all other expedients : 
for if they duly consider they are al- 
ways in God's presence, they willwant 
no other instructor, if they seriously at- 
tend to the advice of their own con- 
sciences. Neither will it tend only to 
the securing of their innocency, but 
their reputation ; it being one part of 



OF A WOMAN. 163 

the Christian law, to u abstain from all 
appearance of evil. " (i. Thes. v. 22.) 
ft To do things that are of good report." 
(Phil. iv. 8.) So that piety is the on- 
ly complete defence of their virtue and 
their fame : and it is extremely neces- 
sary they should be furnished with it, 
at this age especially. 

It is sad indeed, that some mothers 
neglect this most important concern in 
their daughters, though they are nicely 
curious in their other parts of breeding. 
They give them civil accomplishments, 
but too greatly neglect those more ne- 
cessary to the Christian character : 
these seem to be excluded from the 
present scheme of education as unne- 
cessary. I shall conclude this part of 
the business, or duty of a wife, in ad- 
vising you to be so careful in placing 
your children in the world, either in 
marriage or business, that they may 
flourish in piety and well doing, and by 



164 WHOLE DUTY 

that means be the lasting comforts of 
your life. 

As Mistress of a family, you have 
another obligation incumbent on you, 
tor in such a case the inspection of the 
family is usually your province ; aii(\ 
though you are not supreme there, yet 
your most constant residence gives you 
more opportunities of it than the vari- 
ous concerns of your husband will per- 
haps allow him. St. Paul sets this as 
the calling and indispensable duty of a 
married woman, " That she guide the 
house. " (i. Tim. v. 14.) 

Now, as to your well guiding of your 
house, 1 know no better rule than that 
you endeavour to make all who are 
your's to be God's servants. This will 
secure to you all those necessary quali- 
fications in which your worldly inter- 
ests are concerned ; and their own con- 
sciences will be the best spy you can 
set upon them, as to their truth and 



OF A WOMAN. 165 

fidelity, and also the best spur to indus- 
try and diligence. 

It is not only the duty, but the inter- 
est of all who have families, to keep up 
the esteem and practice of religion in 
them, This you must promote by your 
own example, and calling upon them at 
proper times to attend places of public 
worship ; and observing they do not 
neglect it, or do it hypocritically, out of 
form, and only in compliance, which 
may be observed in their conversation 
elsewhere. 

You must remember not to fall into 
the mistake of thinking that, because 
they receive wages, and are inferior to 
you, they are beneath your care to 
know how to manage them. They are 
part of your family, and, let your di- 
rections be ever so faultless, yet, if they 
stop or move irregular, the whole or- 
der of the house will be at a stand, or 
discomposed. Besides, the inequality 
which is between you must not make 



166 WHOLE DUTY 

you forget that nature maketh no sucl 
distinction; but that servants ought, at 
least, to be looked upon as humble 
friends, and that good usage, and re- 
turns of kindness, are as much due to 
those who deserve it, as their service is 
due to you when you require it. A 
foolish haughtiness in the style of 
speaking, or in the manner of command- 
ing them, is very unseemly, and fre- 
quently begets an aversion in them, 
from which at least it may be expected 
that they will be slow and careless in 
all you enjoin them : And by expe- 
rience you will find it true, that you 
will be so much the more obeyed as you 
are the less imperious. 

Be not too hasty in giving your or- 
ders, nor too angry when they are not 
altogether observed; much less be loud, 
or appear too much disturbed; an even- 
ness in distinguishing what they do 
well or ill, will make them move by 
rule, and without noise $ and will the 



i 



OF A WOMAN. 107 

better show your skill in conducting 
matters with ease and silence. Let 
there be well chosen hours for your in- 
specting of household affairs, which 
may be distinguished from the rest of 
your time, that the necessary cares may 
come in their proper places, without 
any interruption to other things. By 
these methods you will put yourself in- 
to a condition of being valued by your 
servants ; and you need not doubt but 
their obedience will naturally follow. 

The art of laying out money wisely 
must be one of your greatest cares : 
It is not attained without considerable 
thought ; and it is yet more difficult in 
the case of a wife, who is accountable 
to her husband for her mistakes in it. 
In this, therefore, you are to keep the 
medium between the extremes of pro- 
fusion and a niggardly temper : and if 
you cannot hold the balance even, let it 
incline rather to the liberal side, as less 
subject to reproach, A little money 



s 



168 WHOLE DUTY 

mispentis sooner recoved than the ere 
it which is lost by having it unhan 
somely saved ; and a prudent husban 
will less forgive a meanness than a lit- 
tle extravagance, if it be not too often 
repeated. Give no just cause to the 
meanest servant yon entertain to com- 
plain of the want of any thing that is 
necessary. Above all, fix in your 
thoughts, as an unchangeable maxim, 
that nothing is truly proper but what 
is just and necessary for your circum- 
stances, of their several kinds; for those 
who break through these bounds launch 
into the wide sea of extravagance : and 
then every thins; will become necessa- 
ry, not because it is fit, but because 
somebody else has it : this is some 
ladies' logic, setting reason with its 
heels upwards, by appealing from 
what is right to every fool that is in the 
wrong, like children and fools, who 
want all they see, because they have 
not wit to distinguish what is reasona- 



OF A WOMAN. 169 

ble and necessary; and therefore there 
is no stronger evidence of a crazy un- 
derstanding than making too large a 
catalogue of things necessary, when in- 
deed there are so very few that have 
a right to be placed in it. Let your 
judgment first make a trial of every 
thing before you allow it a place in 
your desire, else your husband may 
conceive it as necessary to deny as it is 
for vou to crave, whatever is unreason- 
able : and if you should too often give 
him that advantage, it is ten to one but 
the habit of refusing may reach to 
things that are not unfit for you. 



CHAPTER VI. 

The next state to that of marriage 
is widowhood ; and though it super- 
sedes those duties that appertain to a 
deceased husband, yet it endears those 
th it may be paid to his ashes. " For 
K 



170 WHOLE DUTY 

love is strong as death," (Cant. viiL 
6.) And, therefore, where it is pure 
and genuine, it cannot be extinguished 
by death. The conjugal love (trans- 
planted into the grave, as into a finer 
mould) improves into piety, and lays a 
kind of sacred obligation on the widow 
to perform every office of respect to his 
remains. And this may be considered 
in a threefold manner, viz. 

1. To his body. 

2. To his memory. 

3. To his children. 

As to the first, it must be in giving it 
an honourable and decent interment, 
according to the rank he lived in : this 
is a very commendable respect to th 
deceased ; yet it must be so propor 
tioned, that the respect to the dead ma 
not injure the noble relics of him, an 
that of his children, by an extravagan 
expense beyond what he leaves wil 
properly bear. And the next thing is 
to carry yourself with decency, and 



» 



OF A WOMAN. 171 

modest sorrow ; and not by a frantic 
excess of grief to destroy your health, or 
put yourself out of a capacity of mind- 
ing your affairs, since by such a sepa- 
ration, a double care is devolved on 
you. Some who have expressed such 
an excess of passionate sorrow, have 
rather disgraced themselves by it, than 
turned it to any advantage, by letting 
those thoughts too soon vanish in a se- 
cond marriage. 

2. The more valuable kindness, 
therefore, is to his memory, which you 
must endeavour to embalm, and keep 
from perishing; not only to preserve it, 
but perfume it, and render it as a fra- 
grant as you can, not to yourself alone, 
but to others, by reviving the remem- 
brance of whatever was praiseworthy in 
him : vindicating him from any calum- 
nies or false accusations ; and stifling 
and allaying true ones as much as you 
can And, indeed, you can no better 
provide for your own honour, than 



172 WHOLE DUTY 

by this tenderness for your deceased 
husband's memory. And add to this, 
you must be careful not to do any thin j 
below yourself, or that your husband, 
could he have foreseen it, would just- 
ly be ashamed of. — The dying charge 
of Augustus Csesar to his wife Livia< 
was, u Behave thyself well, and re- 
member our marriage V 9 

3. Yet the best and last tribute you 
can most suitably pay to him is in the 
care of the children he leaves behind 
him, those little images of himself; 
they claiming a double portion of your 
love — one upon their native right as 
yours, the other as a bequest in right 
of their deceased father : and indeed, 
since by this mournful separation you 
are to supply the part of both parents, 
it is very necessary you should put on 
the affection of a father and mother. 

First, in a diligent care of their edu- 
cation. Some, from a wish not to 
part with their children, and others 



OF A WOMAN. 173 

from neglect, or parsimony, have been 
fatally remiss in this particular, de- 
nying them the advantage of education 
and genteel breeding, to swell their es- 
tates; thus contracting and narrowing 
their minds, that they know not how to 
dispose of their property to any real be- 
nefit to themselves. Sometimes, as I 
have said, this defect proceeds from 
maternal fondness, they not knowing 
how to part with them out of their sight, 
though more for their immediate ad- 
vantage ; and by this many unhappy 
mothers have found, to their great af- 
fliction, that many misfortunes follow 7 , 
which a liberal education might have 
prevented. 

Secondly, to be frugal in managing 
what is your children's due is very com- 
mendable, and must by no means be 
neglected : but in doing it, you must 
not prejudice them the other way ; nor 
indeed encroach upon any thing that is 
theirs to advance yourself in a second 



174 WHOLE DUTY 

marriage, or to maintain your ow 
state or grandeur; for this not only can 
eels your pretended love to your de 
ceased husband, in violating his will 
and the trust reposed in you, but i 
a manifest fraud on your own chil 
dren, which is the highest injury of al 
others ; for it enhances the crime, and 
adds unnaturainess to deceit: besides 
it is a preposterous sort of guilt, for or 
phans and widows are in Scripture 
linked together as objects of Grod's mer- 
cy and good men's piety: — a widow in- 
juring her orphan is, as Solomon ex- 
presses it, (Prov. xxviii. S.J "As 
poor man that oppresseth the poor : o 
like a sweeping rain, which leaveth no 
food." — Consider then seriously in this 
proceeding, that injustice of any sort is 
a grevious sin, and more particularly 
so when it is complicated with treache- 
ry also. 

Having only hitherto spoken of what 
you owe to your deceased husband; I 









OF A WOMAN. 175 

now proceed to what more particularly 
relates to yourself. 

God, who has placed you in this 
world to pursue the interests of a bet- 
ter, directs all the signal acts, of his 
providence to that end, and they should 
be so interpreted. Every little change 
that occurs is designed either to call 
you from a wrong way, or to quicken 
your pace in the right. And you may 
the more conjecture, that when God 
takes away the mate of your bosom, and 
reduces you to a state of solitariness, 
he sounds to you a retreat from the 
gaieties and follies of the world, that, 
with your closer mourning, you may 
put on a more retired temper of mind, 
a stricter behaviour, not to be cast off 
with your veil, but to be the constant 
adornment of your widowhood* 

As this state requires a p'eat degree 
of sobriety and piety, so likewise it 
brings with it many advantages and 
advances towards them. The apostle 



176 WHOLE DUTY 






tells us, (i. Cor. vii. M.J "She who i 
married caretli for the things of thi 
world, how she may please her hus 
band." — But in this state that care i 
past; and heavenly things, by the re- 
moval of this screen, stand fairer t 
view. You may now decline Mar- 
tha's care of serving, and choose Ma 
ry's better part. 

We find God himself retrenches tin 
wife's power of binding her own soul 
(Numb. xxx. J " Her vows were in 
significant without her husband's con 






firmation; but the widow might devote 
herself to what degree she pleased." 
Your piety in this state has no restraint 
from any other consistent obligation 
but may mount as high as it can. 
Those hours that before were you 
husband's right, seem now to be devol- 
ved on God, who promises " to be a 
husband to the widow, and a father to^ 
the fatherless." You may now con- 
vert the tifiae spent in former entertain- 



>n, 

- 

>ur 



OF A WOMAN. 177 

ments of your husband into spiritual in- 
tercourses with your Maker ; so that 
love which was human, may, by the 
changing of its objects, acquire a subli- 
mity, being exalted to that which is di- 
vine ; and what before was expended 
in gaieties and necessaries, now not re- 
quisite, may be improved in works of 
mercy and charity, that so his corrup- 
tion, which you have lost, may help 
you to put on incorruption ; and your 
loss of a temporary comfort lead you to 
one that is eternal ; while your loyal- 
ty, duty, and conjugal affection, become 
the external work and happiness of an- 
gels, the ardour of cherubims, and the 
joy of saints in endless glory. 

Having thus shown what relates to 
education, and the prospect of happi- 
ness here and hereafter, I do hope and 
trust 1 have made good my promises to 
you, in laying before you such things as 
1 thought would prove acceptable and 
useful to you; so, not doubting but you 



178 WHOLE DUTY, Sec. 

will improve by them, as they were in- 
tended for your good, and so profit by 
the in, that they may have the benefits 
I wish you, I close the subject 






A^TOTOSS 



CONTAINING THE 



POLITE PHILOSOPHER ; 



OR. 



An Essay on the Art which makes a Man happy in 
himself, and agreeable to others / 



TOGETHER WITH 



BR. FRANKLIN'S WAY TO WEALTH. 



GEORGETOWN, D. C. 
PUBLISHED BY JOSHUA C03ISTOCK, 



1832. 



THE 

POLITE PHILOSOPHER. 



Method requires, that in my entrance on 
this work, I should explain the nature of that 
science to which I have given the name of Po- 
lite Philosophy. Though I am not very apt 
to write methodically, yet I think it becomes 
me on this occasion to show that my title is 
somewhat afirofios. 

Folks who are skilled in Greek tell us, that 
Philosophy means no more than the love of 
wisdom; and I, by the adjunction of Polite, 
would be understood to mean that sort of wis- 
dom which teaches men to be at peace in 
themselves, and neither by their words or be- 
haviour to disturb the peace of others. 

Academical critics may perhaps expect that 
I should at least quote some Greek sage or 
other, as the patron of that kind of knowledge 
which I am about to restore ; and as I pique 
myself on obliging every man in his way, I shall 



182 THE POLITE 






put them in mind of one Aristippus, who was 
professor of Polite Philosophy at Syracuse, in 
ihe days of the famous King Dionysius, in 
whose favour he stood higher than ever Plato 
himself. Should they go further, and demand 
an account of his tenets, I must turn them 
over to Horace, who has comprised them all 
in one Hue — 

4 Omnis Aristippum decuit color, et status, et res.' 

Secure his soul preserv'd a constant frame, 
Through every varying scene of life the same. 

In the court of the king of Sicily, this wise 
man enjoyed all the delights that would have 
satisfied a sensual mind ; but it was the use of 
these which shewed him a true philosopher. 
He was temperate in them, while he possessed 
them ; and easy without them, when they 
were no longer in his power. In a word, he 
had the integrity of Diogenes, without his chur- 
lishness : and as his wisdom was useful to him- 
self, so it rendered him agreeable to the rest ol 
the world. 

Aristippus had many pupils; but for the 
regular succession in his school, it has either 
not been recorded by the Greek writers, or at 
least by any of the. ii that came to my hand. 
Among the Romans, indeed, this kind of 
knowledge was in the highest esteem ; and 



PHILOSOPHER. 183 

that at the time when the reputation of the com- 
monwealth was at its greatest height. Scipio 
was less distinguished by the laurels he had 
acquired from foreign conquests, than by the 
myrtle garland he wore as a professor in this 
art. The familiar letters of Cicero are so ma- 
ny short lectures in our science ; and the life 

I of Pomponius Atticus, a praxis on polite phi- 
losophy. 

I would not be suspected to mention these 
great names with an intent to display learning ; 
far be it from me to write a satire on the age ; 
all I aim at is, to convince the beaux esfirits of 
our times, that what I teach, they may not re- 
ceive with disparagement, since they tread 

I thereby in the same road with the greatest he- 
roes of antiquity ; and in this way at least, em- 
ulate the characters of Alexander and Csesar. 
Or if those old-fashioned commanders excite 
not their ambition, I will venture to assure 
them, that in this track only they will be able 
to approach the immortal Prince Eugene; who, 
glorious from his courage, and amiable from 
his clemency, is yet less distinguished by his 

I rank than by his politeness. 

After naming Prince Eugene, it would de- 

| base my subject to add another example. I 
shall jproceed therefore to the taking notice of 
i such qalities of the mind as are requisite for 



184 THE POLITE 

my pupils to have, previous to the receipt oi 
these instructions. 

But as vanity is one of the greatest impedi- 
ments in the road of a polite philosopher ; and 
as he who takes upon himself to be a precep- 
tor, ought at least not to give an ill example to 
his scholars ; it will not be improper for me 
to declare, that, in composing this piece, I had 
in my eye that precept of Seneca, — ' Haec aiiis 
die, ut dum dicis, audias ; ipse scribe, ut dum 
scripseris, legas. 5 Which for the sake of the 
ladies, I shall translate into English, and into 
verse, that I may gratify my own propensity to 
rhyming — 

Speaking- to others, what you dictate hear; 
And learn yourself while teaching you appear. 

Thus you see me stript of the ill-obeyed ai 
thority of a pedagogue ; and are for the future 
to consider me only as a shcool-fellow playing 
the master, that we may better conquer the 
difficulties of our task. 

To proceed then in the character which, for 
my own sake as well as yours, 1 have put on> 
let me remind you, in the first place, 

That Reason, however, antique you may 
think it, is a thing absolutely necessary in the 
composition of him who endeavours at the ac- 
quiring a philosophical politeness ; and let us 



PHILOSOPHER. . 185 

receive it as a maxim, that without Reason 
there is no being a fine gentleman. 

However, to soften, at the same time that we 
yield to this constraint, I tell my blooming au- 
dience with pleasure, that Reason, like a fop's 
under waistcoat, may be worn out of sight; and 
provided it be but worn at all, I shall not quar- 
rel with them, though vivacity, like a laced 
shirt, be put over it to conceal it ; for, to pur- 
sue the comparison j our minds suffer no less 
from indiscretion, than our bodies from the in- 
juries of the weather. 

Next to this, another out-of-the-way qualifica- 
tion must be acquired ; and that is, Calmness. 
Let not the smarts of the university, the 
sparks of the side-boxes, or the genteel flutter- 
ers of the drawing-room, imagine, that I will 
deprive them of those elevated enjoyments — 
drinking tea with a toast, gallanting a fan, or 
roving, like a butterfly, through a paterre of 
beauties : No ; I am far from being the au- 
thor of such severe institutions ; but am, on 
the contrary, willing to indulge them in their 
pleasures, as long as they preserve their sen- 
ses. By which I would be understood to 
mean, while they act in character, and suffer 
not a fond inclination, and aspiring vanity, or a 
giddy freedom, to transport them into the do- 
ing any thing which may forfeit present ad- 
vantages, or entail upon them future pain. 

Ju 



186 THE POLITE 

I shall have frequent occasion in the follow- 
ing pages to show from examples, of whi 
mighty use reason and an undisturbed tempei 
are to men of great commerce in the world 
and therefore shall insist no further on thei 
here. 

The last disposition of the soul which I sha] 
ment ! on, as necessary to him who would be- 
come a proficient in this science, is Good-na- 
ture ; a quality which, as Mr. Dryden said ii 
a dedication to one of the best-natured men oi 
his time, deserves the highest esteem, though, 
from an unaccountable depravity of both taste 
and morals, it meets with the least. For can 
there be any thing more amiable in human na- 
ture, than to think, to speak, and to do, whate- 
ver good lies in our power to all ? No man 
who looks upon Che sun, and who feels that 
cheerfulness which his beams inspire, but 
would rather wish himself like so glorious a be- 
ing, than to resemble the tiger, however formi- 
dable for its fierceness ; or the serpent, hated 
for his hissing, and dreaded for his sting. 
Good-nature may indeed be made almost a* 
diffusive as day-light ; but short are the rava- 
ges of the tiger, innocent the bite of a serpenl 
to the vengeance of a cankered heart, or th( 
malice of an envenomed tongue. To this let 
me add another argument in favour of this be- 
nevolence of soul ; and farther persuasions willj 



PHILOSOPHER, 187 

I flatter myself, be unnecessary. Good-nature 
adorns every perfection a man is master of, 
and throws a veil over every blemish which 
would otherwise appear. In a word, like a 
skilful painter, it places his virtues in the fair- 
est light, and casts all his foibles into shade. 

Thus, in a few words, Sense, Moderation, 
and Sweetness, are essential to a Polite Philo- 
sopher. — And if you think you cannot acquire 
these, even lay my book aside. But before 
you do that, indulge me yet a moment 
longer. Nature denies the first to few ; the 
second is in every man's power-; and no man 
need be without the last, who either values 
general esteem, or is not indifferent to public 
hate. For, to say truth, what is necessary to 
make an honest man, properly applied, would 
make a polite one ; and as almost every one 
would tako it amiss, if we should deny him the 
first appellation ; so you may perceive from 
thence how few there are who, but from their 
own indiscretion, may deserve the second. It 
is want of attention, not capacity, which leaves 
us &o many brutes ; and I flatter myself, there 
will be fewer of this species, if any of them can 
be prevailed upon to read this A deserij .on 
of their faults is to such the fittest lecture ; for 
few monsters there are who can view them- 
selves in a glass. 



188 THE POLITE 

Our follies, when display'd, ourselves affright ; 

Few are so bad to bear the odious sight. 

Mankind, in herds, through force of custom, stray. 

Mislead each other into Error's way ; 

Pursue the road, forgetful of the end, 

Sin, by mistake, and without thought, offend. 

My readers, who have been many of them 
accustomed to think politeness rather an orna- 
mental accomplishment, than a thing necessa- 
ry to be acquired in order to an easy and happy 
life, may from thence pay less attention than 
my instructions require, unless I can convince 
them they are in the wrong. In order to which, 
I must put them in mind, that the tranquillity, 
even felicity of our days, depends as strongly 
on small things as on great ; of which men may 
be easily convinced, if they but reflect how 
great uneasiness they have experienced from 
cross accidents, although they related but to 
trifles ; and at the same time remember that 
disquiet is of all others the greatest evil, let it 
arise from what it will. 

Now, in the concerns of life, as in those oi 
fortune, numbers are brought into what are 
called bad circumstances from small neglects, 
rather than from any great errors in material 
affairs. People are too apt to think lightly of shil- 
lings and pence, forgetting that they are the 
constituent parts of pounds ; until the deficien- 
cy in the greater articles shows them their 



PHILOSOPHER. 189 

mistake, and convinces them by fatal experi- 
ence of a truth, which they might have learned 
from a little attention, viz. that great sums are 
made up of small. 

Exactly parallel to this, is that wrong notion 
which many have, that nothing more is due 
i from them to their neighbours, than what re- 
sults from a principle of honesty, — which com- 
mands us to pay our debts, and forbids to do 
injuries ; whereas, a thousand little civilities, 
complacencies, and endeavours to give others 
pleasure, are requisite to keep up the relish of 
life, and procure us that affection and esteem, 
which every man who has a sence of it must 
desire. And in the right timing and discreet 
management of these punctilios, consists the 
essence of what we call politeness. 

How many know the general rules of art, 

Which unto tablets human forms impart ? 

How many can depict the rising brow, 

The nose, the mouth, and every feature show r 

Can in their colours imitate the skin, 

And by the force of fire can fix them in ? 

Yet when 'tis done, unpleasing to the sight, 

Though like the picture, strikes not with delight. 

*Tis zinc alone gives the enamel'd face 

A polish'd sweetness and a glossy grace. 

Examples have, generally speaking, greater 
force than precepts : I will therefore delineate 
the characters of Honorius and Gracia, two 



I 



190 THE POLITE 



gentlemen of my acquaintance; whose humour 
I have perfectly considered, and shall repre 
sent them without the least exaggeration. 

Honorius is a person equally distinguishe 
by his birth and fortune. He has naturally 
good sense, and that too hath been improved 
by a regular education. His wit is lively, and 
his morals without a stain. — Is not this an ami- 
able character ? Yet Honorius is not beloved. 
He has, some way or other, contracted a notion, 
that it is beneath a man of honour to fall below 
the height of truth in any degree, or on any oc- 
casion whatsoever. From this principle he 
speaks bluntly what he thinks, without regard- 
ing the company who are by. Some weeks 
ago he read a lecture on female hypocrisy be- 
fore a married couple, though the lady was 
much suspected on that head. Two hours 
after, he fell into a warm declamation against 
simony and priest-craft before two dignitaries of 
the church ; and from a continued course of 
this sort of behaviour, had rendered himself 
dreaded as a monitor, instead of being esteem- 
ed as a friend. 

Gracia, on the contrary, came into the world 
under the greatest disadvantages. His birth 
was mean, and his fortune not to be mentioned; 
yet, though he is scarce forty, he has acquired 
a handsome fortune in the country, and lives 
upon it with more reputation than most of his 



PHILOSOPHER. 191 

neighbours. While a servitor at the university, 
he by his assiduities recommended himself to 
a noble lord, and thereoy procured a place of 
fifty pounds a year in a public office. His be- 
haviour there made him as many friends as 
there were persons belonging to his board.— 
His readiness in doing favours gained him the 
hearts of his inferiors ; his deference for those 
of the highest characters in the office, procur- 
ed him their good will; and the complacency 
he expressed towards his equals, and those im- 
mediately above him, made them espouse his 
interests with almost as much warmth as they 
did their own. By this management in ten 
years' time he rose to the possession of an office 
which brought him in a thousand pounds a year 
salary, and near double as much in perquisites. 
Affluence hath made no alteration in his man- 
ners. The same easiness of disposition attends 
him in that fortune to which it has raised him, 
and he is at this day the delight of all who know 
him, from an art he has of persuading them, 
that their pleasures and their interests are 
equally dear to him with his own. Who, if it 
were in his power, would not refuse what Ho- 
norius possesses ? and who would not wish that 
possession accompanied with Gracia's disposi- 
tion ? 

I flatter myself, that by this time most of my 
readers have acquired a tolerable idea of polite- 



19S THE POLITE 



ness, and a just notion of its use in our passage 
through life. I must, however, caution them 
of one thing,,that, under the notion of politeness, 
they fall neither into a contempt or carelessness 
of science. 

A man may have much learning without be- 
ing a pedant; nay, it is necessary that he should 
have a considerable stock of knowledge before 
he can be polite. The gloss is never given 
till the work is finished ; without it the best 
wrought piece is clumsy ; but varnish over a 
rough board is a preposterous daub. In a 
word, that rule of Horace, 'miscere utile dulci,' 
so often quoted, can never be better applied 
than in the present case, where neither of the 
qualities can subsist without the other. 

With dress, for once, the rule of life we'll place, 
Cloth is plain sense, and polish' d breeding 1 lace. 
Men may in both mistake the true design ; 
Fools oft are taudry, when they would be fine. 
An equal mixture both of use and show, 
From giddy fops points the accomplished beau. 

Having now gone through the praecognita 
of Polite Philosophy, it is requisite we should 
descend with greater particular into its several 
branches. 

For though exactness would not be of a 
piece either with the nature or intent of this 
work, yet some order is absolutely necessary. 



PHILOSOPHER. 193 

because nothing is more impolite than to be 
obscure. Some philosophers have indeed 
prided themselves in a mysterious way of 
speaking; wrapping their maxims in so tough a 
coat, that the kernel, when found, seldom aton- 
ed for the pains of the finder. 

The polite sage thinks in a quite different 
way. Perspicuity is the garment in which his 
conceptions appear : and his sentiments, if 
they are of any use, carry this additional ad- 
vantage with them, that scarce any labour is 
required in attaining them. Graver discourses, 
like Galenical medicines, are often formidable in 
their figure, and nauseous in their taste. Lec- 
tures from a doctor in our science, like a 
chemical extraction, convey knowledge, as it 
were, by drops, and restore sense as the other 
does the health without the apparatus of physic. 

Harsh to the heart, and grating to the ear, 
Who can reproof without reluctance hear ? 
Why against priests the gen'ral heat so strong, 
But that they show us all we do is wrong ? 
Wit well apply'd does weightier wisdom right, 
And gives us knowledge, while it gives delight ; 
Thus on the stage, we with applause behold, 
W T hat would have pain'd us from the pulpit told. 

It is now time to apply what we have alrea- 
dy advanced to those points in which they may 
be the most useful to us ; and therefore we 



19 4 THE POLITE 

will begin by considering what advantage the 
practise of them will procure in respect to 
these three things which are esteemed of the 
greatest consequence in the general opinion of 
the world. This leads me, in the first place, 
to explain the sentiments and conduct of a po- 
lite philosopher in regard to religion. I arn 
not ignorant, that there are a multitude of those 
who pass both on the world and on themselves 
for very polite persons, who look on this as a 
topic below their notice. Religion (say they 
with a sneer) is the companion of melancholy 
minds ; but for the gayer part of the world, 
it is ill manners to mention it amongst them. 
Be it so. But give me leave to add, that 
there is no ranker species of ill-breeding than 
speaking of it sarcastically, or with contempt. 

" Religion, strictly speaking, means the 
worship which men, from a sense of duty, pay 
to that Being unto whom they owe their own 
existence, with all those blessings and benefits 
which attend it." 

Let a man but reflect on this definition, and 
it will be impossible for him not to perceive, 
the treating this in a ludicrous way, must not 
only be unpolite, but shocking. Who that has 
a regard for a man would not start at the 
thoughts of saying a base thing of his father be- 
fore him ? And yet what a distance is there 
between the notion of a father and a Creator I 



PHILOSOPHER. 195 

Since, therefore, no further arguments are ne- 
cessary to prove the inconsistence between 
raillery and religion, what can be more cogent 
to a polite man, than thus showing that such 
discourses of his would be mal apropos ? 

Thus much for those that might be guilty of 
unpoliteness with respect to religion in general, 
a fault unaccountably common in an age which 
pretends to be so polite. ' 

As to particular religions, or rather tenets 
in religion, men are generally warm in them, 
from one of these two reasons, viz. tenderness 
of conscience, or a high sense of their own judg- 
ments. Men of plain parts and honest dispo- 
sitions, look on salvation as too serious a thing 
to be jested with ; a polite man, therefore, will 
be cautious of offending upon that head, be- 
cause he knows he will give the person to whom 
he speaks pain ; a thing very opposite to the 
character of a polished philosopher. The lat- 
ter reason which I have assigned for men's 
zeal in religious matters, may seem to have 
less weight than the first : but he who consid- 
ers it attentively will be of another opinion. 
Men of speculative religion, who are so from 
a conviction rather of their heads than their 
hearts, are not a bit less vehement than the re- 
al devotees. He who says a slight or a severe 
thing of their faith seems to them to have 
thereby undervalued their understandings, and 



196 THE POLITE 

will consequently incur their aversion ; which 
no man of common sense would hazard for a 
lively expression, much less a person of good 
breeding, who should make it his chief aim to 
be well with all. As a mark of my own polite 
ness, I will here take leave of this subject 
since, by dropping it. I shall oblige the ga; 
part of my readers, as I flatter myself I have 
already done the graver part, from my mannei 
of treating it. 

Like some grave matron of a noble line, 
With awful beauty does Religion shine. 
Just sense should teach us to revere the dame, 
Nor by imprudent jests to sport her fame. 
In common life you'll own this reason right, 
That none but fools in gross abuse delight : 
Then use it here — nor think our caution vain ; 
To be polite, men need not be profane. 

Next to their concerns in the other world, 
men are usually most taken up with the con- 
cerns of the public here. The love of our 
countrv is among those virtues to. which every 
man thinks he should pretend, and the way in 
which this is generally shown, is by falling into 
what we call parties ; where, if a share of good 
sense allay not that heat which is naturally con- 
tracted from such engagements, a man soon 
falls into all the violences of faction, and looks 
upon every one as his enemy who does not ex- 



PHILOSOPHER. 197 

press himself about the public good in the same 
terms he does. This is a harsh picture, but it 
is a just one, of the far greater part of those 
who are warm in political disputes. A polite 
man will therefore speak as seldom as he can 
on topics, where, in a mixed company, it is al- 
most impossible to say any thing that will please 
all. 

To say truth, patriotism, properly so called, 
is perhaps as scarce in this age as in any that 
has gone before us. Men appear to love them- 
selves so well, that it seems not altogether 
credible they should, at every turn, prefer 
their country's interest to their own. The 
thing looks noble indeed ; and therefore, like 
a becoming habit, every body would put it on, 
But this is hypocrisy you will say, and there- 
fore ought to be detected. Here the Polite 
Philosopher finds new inducements to caution ; 
sore places are always tender ; and people at a 
masquerade are in pain if you do any thing 
which may discover their faces. 

Our philosophy is not intended to make a 
man that sour monitor who points out folks' 
faults, but to make them in love with their virtues; 
that is, to make himself and them easy while 
he is with them ; and to do or say nothing 
which, on reflection, may make them less his 
friends at the next meeting. 






198 THE POLITE 

Let us explain this a little further. The 
rules we offer are intended rather to guide men 
in company than when alone. What we a 
vance tends not so directly to amend people 
hearts as to regulate their conduct ; a matter 
which we have already demonstrated to be of 
no small importance. Yet I beg you will ob- 
serve, that though morality be not immediately 
our subject, we are far, however, from requir- 
ing any thing in our pupils contrary thereto. 

A polite man may yet be religious, and, if 
hi j -ason be convinced, attached to any inter- 
est which in his opinion, suits best with that of 
the public ; provided he conform thus far to 
our system^ that on no occasion he trouble oth- 
ers with the articles of his religious creed or 
political engagements ; or, by any stroke of 
wit or raillery, hazard for a laugh that disposi- 
tion of mind which is absolutely necessary to 
make men easy when together. 

Were I, indeed, to indulge my own senti- 
ments, I should speak yet with greater free- 
j u : this subject. Since there is so vast a 
disproportion when we come to compare those 
wh have really either a concern in the govern- 
ment the service of their country more par- 
ti. . heart, and the men who pretend to 
cithe ely from a desire of j .; of 
some consequence themselves, we er- 
tainly to avoid making one of that number, and 



PHILOSOPHER. 199 

aim rather at being quiet within ourselves and 
agreeable to those among whom we live, let 
thtir political notions be what they will ; inas- 
much as this is a direct road to happiness, 
which all men profess they would reach if they 
could. Pomponius Atticus, whose character ap- 
pears so amiable from the concurring testimony 
of all who mention him, owed the greatest part of 
that esteem in which he lived, and of the repu- 
tation by which he still survives, unto his steady 
adherence to this rule. His benevolence made 
him love mankind in general, and his good 
sense hindered him from being tainted with 
those party prejudices which had bewitched his 
friends. He took not up arms for Caesar, nor 
did he abandon Italy when Pompey withdrew 
his forces, and had in outward form the sanc- 
tion of the commonwealth. He saw too plainly 
the ambition of both ; but he preserved his 
complacence for his friends in each party, 
without siding with either. Success never 
made them more welcome to Pomponius, nor 
could any defeat lessen them in his esteem. 
When victorious he visited them, without shar- 
ing in their power ; and when vanquished he 
received them, without considering any thing 
but their distress. In a few words, he enter- 
tained no hopes from the good fortune of his 
friends, nor suffered the reverse of it to chill 
his breast with fear. His equanimity produc- 



gOO THE POLITE 

ed a just effect, and his universal kindness 
made him universally beloved. 

I fancy this picture of a disposition perfectly- 
free from political sourness, will have an agree- 
able effect on many of my readers, and prevent 
their falling into a common mistake, that the 
circumstances, of public persons are the pro- 
perest topics for a general conversation; 
whereas they never consider that it is hard to 
find a company wherein somebody hath not ei- 
ther liking or distaste, or has received injuries 
or obligations from those who are likeliest to be 
mentioned on such an occasion ; and who con- 
sequently will be apt to put a serious construc- 
tion on a slight expression, and remember af- 
terwards in earnest, what the speaker meant so 
much a jest as never to have thought of it 
more. These, perhaps, may pass with some 
for trivial remarks : but with those who regard 
their own ease, and have at all observed what 
conduces to make men disagreeable to one 
another, I flatter myself they will have more 
weight. 

Behaviour is like architecture ; the symme- 
try of the whole pleases us so much that we 
examine not into parts, which, if we did, we 
should find much nicety required in forming 
such a structure ; though, to persons of no 
taste, the rules of either art would seem to have 
little connexion with their effects. 



PHILOSOPHER. g'oi 

That true politeness we can only call, 
Which looks like Jones's fabric at Whitehall ; 
Where just proportion we with pleasure see ; 
Though built by rule, yet from all stiffness free ; 
Though grand, yet plain ; magnificent, but fine j 
The ornaments adorning the design. 
It fills our mind with rational delight, 
And pleases on reflection as a slight. 

After these admonitions as to religion and 
politics, it is very fit we observe another to- 
pic of modern discourse, of which it is hard to 
say whether it may be more common or more 
contrary to true politeness. What I mesn, is 
the reflecting on men's professions, and play on 
those general aspersions which have been fix- 
ed on them by a sort of ill-nature hereditary to 
thf world. And with this, as the third point 
which I promised to consider, shall be shut up 
the more serious part of this essay. 

In order to have a proper idea of this point, 
we must first of all consider that the chief cause 
both of love and hatred is custom. When men, 
from a long habit, have acquired a faculty of 
thinking clearly, and speaking well, in any sci- 
ence, they naturally like that better than any 
other ; and this liking in a short time grows up 
to a warmer affection, which renders them im- 
patient whenever their darling science is de- 
cried in their hearing. A polite man will have 
a care of not ridiculing physic before one of 
M 



gOS THE POLITE 

the faculty ; talking disrespectfully of lawyers 
when gentlemen of the long robe are by : or 
speaking contemptuously of the clergy when 
any of that order. 

Some critics may possibly object that thes 
are solecisms of too gross a nature for men of 
tolerable sense or education to be guilty of: 
but I appeal to those who are more conversant 
in the world, whether this fault, glaring as it is 
be not committed every day. 

The strictest intimacy can never warran 
freedoms of this sort ; and it is indeed prepos- 
terous to think it should, unless we can suppose 
that injuries are less evils when done to us by 
friends, that when thev come from other hands 



. 



; 






Excess of wit may oftentimes beguile ; 
Jests are not always pardon'd by a smile ; 
Men may disguise their malice at the heart, 
And seem at ease, though pain'd with inward smart; 
Mistaken, we think all such wounds of course 
Reflection cures — alas ! it makes them worse. 
Like scratches, they with double anguish seize, 
Rankle in time, and fester by degrees. 

Let us now proceed to speak on raillery in 
general. Invective is a weapon worn as com- 
monly as a sword ; and, like that, is often in 
the hands of those who know not how to use it. 
Men of true courage fight but seldom, and ne- 
ver draw but in their own defence. Bullies are 



PHILOSOPHER. 203 

continually squabbling : and, from the ferocity 
of their behaviour, become the terror of some 
companies, and the jest of more. This is just 
the case of such as have a liveliness of thought, 
directed by propensity to ill-nature : indulg- 
ing themselves at the expense of others, they, 
by degrees, incur the dislike of all. Meek 
tempers abhor, men of cool dispositions dis- 
pise, and those addicted to cholar chastise 
them. Thus a licentiousness of tongue, like a 
spirit of rapine, sets one man against all ; and 
the defence of reputation, as well as property, 
puts the human species on regarding a malev- 
olent babbler with a worse eye than a common 
thief; because fame is a kind of goods which, 
when once taken away, can hardly be restored. 
Such is the effigy of this human serpent. And 
who, when he has considered it, would be 
thought to have sat for the piece ? 

It is a thousand to one my book feels the re- 
sentment of Draco, from seeing his own like- 
ness in this elass. 

A good family, but no fortune, threw Draco 
into the army when he was very young. Danc- 
ing, fencing, and a smattering of the French, 
are all the education either his friends bestow- 
2d, or his capacity would allow him to receive. 
He has not been two years in town ; and from 
swearing, drinking, and debauching country 
wenches (the general route of a military rake,) 



204 THE POLITE 

the air of St. James's has given his vices a 
new turn. By dint of an embroidered coat, 
he thrusts himself into the beau coffee-houses, 
where a dauntless effrontery, and a natural vo- 
lubility of tongue, conspire to make him pass 
for a fellow of wit and spirit. 

A bastard ambition makes him envy every 
great character ; and as he has just sense 
enough to know that his qualifications will ne- 
ver recommend him to the esteem of men of 
sense, or the favour of women of virtue, he 
has thence contracted an antipathy to both ; 
and by giving a boundless loose to universal 
malice, makes continual war against honour 
and reputation, wherever he finds them. 

Hecatiila is a female fire-brand, more dan- 
gerous, and more artfully vindictive, than Dra- 
co himself. — Birth, wit, and fortune, combine 
to render her conspicuous ; while a splenetic 
envy sours her otherwise amiable qualities, and 
makes her dreaded as a poison doubly danger- 
ous, greatful to the tase, yet mortal ill the ef- 
fect. Ail who see Hecatiila at a visit, where 
the brilliancy of her wit heightens the lustre of | 
her charms, are imperceptibly deluded into a 
concurrence with her in opinion ; and suspect 
not dissimulation under the air of frankness, 
nor a studied design of doing mischief under a 
seemingly casual stroke of wit. The most sa- 
cred character, the most exalted station, the 



PHILOSOPHER. 205 

[ fairest reputation, defend not from the infec- 
tious blast of sprightly raillery : borne on the 
i wings of wit, and supported by a blaze of beau- 
r ty, the fiery vapour withers the sweetest blos- 
soms, and communicates to all who hear her 
an involuntary dislike to those at whose merit 
she points her satire. 

At evening thus the unsuspecting swain, 
Ketuming homeward o'er a marshy plain, 
Pleased, at a distance sees the lambent light, 
And, hasty, follows the mischievous sprite, 
Through brakes and puddles, over hedge and. 

style, 
tlambies, misguided, many a weary mile. 
Confus'd, and wond'ring at the space he's gone. 
Doubts, then believes, and hurries faster on : 
The cheat detected when the vapour's spent, 
Scarce he's convinced and hardly can repent. 

Next to these cautions with respect to raille- 
) ry, which, if we examine strictly, we shall find 
no better than a well-bread phrase for speaking 
; ill of folks, it may not be amiss to warn our 
readers cf a certain vehemence exceedingly 
shocking to others, at the same time that it not 
a little exhaubis themselves. 

If we trace this error to its source, we shall 
/find that the spring of it is an impatience at 
finding others differ from us in opinion. And 
can there be any thing more unreasonable than 
to blame that disposition in them which we 
cherish in ourselves ? 



S06 THE POLITE 

If submission be a thing so disagreeable to 
us, why should we expect it from them ? 
Truth can only justify tenaciousness in opinion. 
Let us calmly lay down what convinces us ; 
and, if it is reasonable, it will hardly fail per- 
suading those to whom we speak. Heat be- 
gets heat ; and the clashing of opinions seldom 
fails to strike out the fire of dissention. 

As this is a foible more especially indecent 
in the fair sex, I think it will be highly necessa- 
ry to offer another, and perhaps more cogent 
argument, to their consideration. Passion is 
a prodigious enemy to beauty ; it ruffles the 
sweetest features, discolours the finest com- 
plexion, and, in a word, gives the air of a 
fury to the face of an angel. Far be it from me 
to lay restraints upon the ladies ; but in dis- 
suading them from this method of enforcing 
their sentiments, I put them upon an easier 
way of effecting what they desire ; for what 
can be denied to beauty, when speaking with 
an air of satisfaction ? Complacence does all 
that vehemence would extort ; as anger can 
alone abate the influence of her charms. 

Serene and mild we view the evening air, 
The pleading picture of the smiling fair ; 
A thousand charms our several senses meet, 
Cooling the breeze with fragrant odours sweet. 
But sudden, if the sable clouds deform 
The azure sky, and threat the coming storm, 



PHILOSOPHER. 207 

Hasty we flee — ere yet the thunders roar, 
And dread what we so much admired before. 

To ehemence in discourse, let me join re- 
dundancy in it also ; a fault flowing rather from 
carelessness than design, and which is more 
dangerous from its being more neglected. 
Passion, as I have hinted, excites opposition ; 
and that very opposition, to a man of tolerable 
sense, will be t; e strongest reproof for his inad- 
ventency : whereas a perso:* of a loquacious 
disposition may often escape open censure 
from the respect due to his quality ; or from 
an apprehension in those with whom he conver- 
ses, that a check would but increase the evil, 
and, like curbing a hard-mouthed horse, serve 
only to make him run the faster; from whence 
the person in fault is often riveted in his error, 
\ by mistaking a silent contempt for profound at- 
tention. 

Perhaps this short description may set many 
of my readers right; which, whatever they may 
think of it, I assure them is of no small impor- 
tance. Conversation is a sort of bank, in which 
all who compose it have their respective shares. 
The man, therefore, who attempts to engross 
it, trespasses upon the righi of his companions; 
and, whether they think fit to tell him so or no, 
will of consequence be regarded as no fair 
dealer. Notwithstanding I consider conversa- 



802 THE POLITE 



.,. 



tion in this light, I think it necessary to observe, 
that it differs from other copartnerships in one 
very material point, which is this, that it is 
worse taken if a man pays in more than his 
proportion, than if he had not contributed his 
full quota, provided he be not too far deficient 
for the prevention of which let us have H 
race's caution continually in our eye : 

The indiscreet with blind aversion run 
Into one fault, where they another shun 

It ;s the peculiar privilege of the fair, that 
speaking or silent they never offend. Who 
can be weary of hearing the softest harmony ? 
or who, without pleasure, can behold beauty, 
when his attention is not diverted from he 
charms, by listening to her words ? I woul 
ha- e stooped her, but that my deference forth 
laclicb obliges me to take notice, that some o 
their own sex, when past the noon of life, o 
in t; eir wane of power from some other 
reason, are apt to place an inclination of oblig- 
ing their hearers amongst those topics of de- 
traction, by which they would reduce the lustre 
of those stars that now gild the hemisphere 
where they once shone. 

From this cause only, I would advise the 
vei ning t • sts, by an equality of behaviour, to 
avoid the censure of these ill-natured tattlers. 



PHILOSOPHER. §09 

Such hapless fate attends the young" and fair, 
Expos'd to open force and secret snare ; 
Pursu'd by men warm with destructive fire 
Against their peace, while female frauds conspire. 
Escap'd from those, in vain they hope for rest ; 
What fame's secure from an invidious jest ? 
By flight the deer, no more of dogs afraid, 
Falls by a shot from some dark covert made : 
So envious tongues their foul intention hide ; 
Wound though unseen, and kill ere they're des- 
cry'd. 

Of all ies which men are apt to fall in- 

to, to tie disturbance of otners and lessening of 
themselves, there is none more intolerable than 
continual egotism, and a prepetual inclination 
to self-panegyric. The mention of this weak- 
ness is sufficient to expose it ; since, I think, 
no man was e v er possessed of so warm an affec- 
tion for his own person, as deliberately to as- 
sert that it and its concerns are proper topics 
to entertain company. Yet there are many 
who, through, want of attention, fall into t : :is 
vein, as soon as the conversation begins to ac- 
quire life ; they lay hold of every opportunity 
of introducing themselves, of describing them- 
selves, and, if people are so dull as not to tike 
the hint, of commending themselves ; nay, 
what is nore surprising than all this, they are 
amazed coldness of their auditor forget- 

ting that the same passion inspires almost eve- 



310 THE POLITE 

ry body ; and that there is scarce a man in the 
room who has not a better opinion of himself 
than of any body else. 

Disquisitions of this sort into human nature 
belong properly unto sages in Polite Philoso- 
phy ; for the first principle of true politeness is 
not to offend against such dispositions of th< 
mind as are almost inseparable from our spe- 
cies. To find out and methodize these, require! 
no small labour and application. The fruits 
of my researches on this subject, I communi- 
cate freely to the public; but must, at the same 
time, exhort my readers to spare now and then 
a few minutes to such reflections ; which 
will at least be attended with this good conse- 
quence, that it will open a scene which hath 
novelty (that powerful charm) to recommend 
it. 

But I must beware of growing serious again 
— I am afraid my gravity may have disobliged 
some of the beaumonde already. 

He who intends t 3 advise the young and gay, 
Must quit the common road — the formal way 
"Which hum-drum pedants take to make folks wise, 
By praising virtue and despising vice. 
Let persons tell what dreadful ills will fall 
On such as listen when their passions call : 
We, from such things our pupils to affright, 
Say not they're sins, but that they're unpolite. 
To show their courage, beaux would often dare, 



PHILOSOPHER. gll 

By blackest crimes, to brave old Lucifer : 
But who, of breeding* nice, of carriage civil, 
Would trespass on good manners for the devil ? 
Or, merely to display his want of fear, 
Be damn'd hereafter to be laugh' d at here ? 

It cannot be expected from me that I should 
particularly criticise on all those foibles through 
which men are offensive to others in their be- 
haviour ; perhaps, too, a detail of this kind, 
however, exact, might be thought tedious ; it 
may be construed into a breach of those 
rules, for a strict observance of which I con- 
tend. In order, therefore, to diversify a sub- 
ject which can be no other way treated agree- 
ably, permit me to throw together a set of 
characters I once had the opportunity of seeing, 
who will afford a just picture of these Mar- 
plots in conversation, and which my readers, if 
they please, may call the assembly of Imperti- 
nents. 

There was once a coffee-house in that end 
of the town where I lodged some time ago, at 
which several gentlemen used to meet of an 
evening, who from a happy correspondence in 
their humours and capacities, entertained one 
another agreeably, from the close of the after- 
noon till it was time to go to bed. 

About six months this society subsisted with 
great regularity, though without any restraint. 
Every gentleman who had frequented the 



%i% THE POLITE 

house, and conversed with the rectors of this 
club, were invited to pass an evening, when 
they thought fit, in a room up one pair of stairs, 
set apart for that purpose. 

The report of this meeting drew, one night 
when I had the honour of being there, three 
gentlemen of distinction, who were so well 
known to most of the members, that admit- 
tance could not be refused them. One of them, 
whom I choose to call Major Ramble, turned 
of three score, and who had an excellent edu- 
cation, seized the discourse about an hour be- 
fore supper, and gave us a very copious ac- 
count of the remarks he had made in three 
years' travels through Italy. He began with 
a geographical description of the dominions of 
his Sardinian Majesty as Duke of Savoy; and 
after a digression on the fortifications of Turin, 
in speaking of which he showed himself a per- 
fect engineer, he proceeded to the secret his- 
tory of the match with Portugal to the abdica- 
tion of King Victor Amadeus. After this he 
ran over the general history of Milan, Parma, 
and Modena; dwelt half an hour on the adven- 
tures of the late Duke of Mantua; gave us a 
hasty sketch of the court of Rome; transferred 
himself from thence to the kingdom of Naples; 
repeated the insurrection of Massanielo; and at 
a quarter before ten, finished his observations 
with the recital of what happened at the reduc- 






PHILOSOPHER. gl3 

tion of that kingdom to the obedience of the 
present Emperors. What contributed to make 
this conduct of his the more out of the way was, 
that every gentleman in the room had been in 
Italy as well as he; and one of them who was a 
merchant, was the very person at whose house 
the Major resided when at Naples. Possibiy 
he might imagine, the knowledge he had in 
those things might give them a great relish for 
his animadversions; or, to speak more candid- 
ly, the desire of displaying his own parts buri- 
ed every other circumstance in oblivion. Just 
as tjie Major had done speaking, a gentleman 
called for a glass of water, and happened to 
say, after drinking it, that he found his consti- 
tution much amended, since he left off malt- 
liquor. Dr. Hectic, another of the strangers, 
immediately laid hold of this opportunity, and 
gave us a large account of the virtue of water: 
confirming whatever he advanced from the 
works of the most eminent physicians. From 
the main subject, lie made an easy transition to 
medicinal baths and springs. Nor were his 
researches bounded by our own country: he 
condescended to acquaint us with the proper- 
ties of the springs of Bourbon; particularized 
the genuine smell of Spa water; applauded the 
wonderful effects of the Piermont mineral: and, 
like a iue patriot, wound up his disquisitions 
with preferring Astrop wells (within three 



i 



214 THE POLITE 

miles of which he was born) to them ail. It 
was now turned of eleven ; when the Major 
and Doctor took their leave, and went away to 
gether in a hackney-coach. 

The company seemed inclinable to extend 
their usual time of sitting, in order to divert 
themselves after their night's fatigue. When 
Mr. Paphilio, the third new comer, after two or 
three severe reflections on the oddity of some 
people's humours, who were for imposing their 
own idle conceits as things worthy the atten- 
tion of a whole company ; though at the same 
time, their subjects are trivial, and their man- 
ner of treating them insipid ; " for my paiV 
continued he, " gentlemen, most people do 
me the honour to say, that few people under- 
stand medals better than I do. To put the 
musty stories of these queer old men out of 
our heads, I'll give you the history of a valua- 
ble medallion, which was sent me about three 
weeks ago from Venice." Without staying 
for any further mark of approbation than si- 
lence, he entered immediately on a long dis- 
sertation ; in which he had scarcely proceed- 
ed ten minutes before his auditors, losing all 
patience, followed the example of an old Tur- 
key merchant, who, taking up his hat and 
gloves, went directly down stairs, without say- 
ing a word. 






PHILOSOPHER. 215 

Animadversions on what I have related, would 
but trespass on the patience of my reader ; 
wherefore, in place of them, let me offer a few 
remarks in verse ; where my genius may be 
more at liberty, and vivacity atone for want of 
method. 

Who would not choose to shun the gen'ral scorn, 

And fly contempt a thing so hardly borne ? 

This to avoid let not your tales be long*,} 

The endless speaker's ever in the wrong*, > 
All, all abhor intemperance of tongue, J 

Though with a fluency of easy sound, 
Your copious speech with every grace abound; 
Though wit adorn, and judgment give it weight, 
Discretion must your vanity abate, 
Ere your tir'd hearers put impatience on, 
And wonder when the larum will be done. 
Nor think by art attention can be wrought; 
A flux of words will ever be a fault, 
Things without limit we by nature blame; 
And soon are cloy'd with pleasure of the same. 

Hitherto we have dwelt only on the blem- 
ishes of conversation, in order to prevent our 
readers committing such offences as absolute- 
ly to destroy all pretences to politeness. But 
a man cannot be said to discharge the duty he 
owes to society who contents himself with bare- 
ly doing nothing amiss: so lecturers on polite 
philosophy, after removing these obstacles, 
may reasonably be expected to find out the 



§16 THE POLITE 



reason whereby true philosophy may be ob- 
tained. But, alas ! that ;s not to be done by 
words : rocks and tempests are easily painted; 
but the rays of Phoebus defy the pencil. 

Methinks I see my auditors in surprise. — 
What ! say they — have we attended so long 
in vain ? have we attended to no purpose ? 
Must we content ourselves with knowing how 
necessary a thing politeness is, without being 
able to acquire it ? Why really, gentlemen, it 
is just so. I have done all for you that is in 
my power ; I have shown you what you are 
not to be ; in a word, I have explained po- 
liteness negatively. If you would know it 
positively, you must seek it from company and 
observation. However, to show my own good- 
breeding, I will be your humble servant as far 
as I can ; that is, I will open the door for you, 
and introduce you, leaving you then at the sin- 
gle point where I can be of no further use, id 
est , application. 

The world is a great school, where men are 
first to learn, and then to practise. As funda- 
mentals in all sciences ought to be well un- 
derstood, so a man cannot be too attentive at 
his first becoming acquainted with the public ; 
for experience is a necessary qualification in 
every distinguished character, and is as much 
required in a fine gentleman as a statesman. — 
Yet it is to be remarked, that experience is 



PHILOSOPHER. giy 

much sooner acquired by some than others ; 
for it does not consist so much in a copious re- 
membrance of whatever has happened, as in a 
regular retention of what may be useful ; as a 
man is properly styled learned from his making 
a just use of reading, and not from his having 
perused a multitude of books. 

As soon as we have gained knowledge, we 
shall find the best way to improve it will be ex- 
ercise ; in which, two things are to be careful- 
ly avoided, positiveness and affectation. If, to 
our care in shunning them, we add a desire of 
obliging those with whom we converse, there is 
little danger but that we become all we wish ; 
and politeness, by an imperceptible gradation, 
will enter into our minutest actions, and give a 
polish to every thing we do. 

Near to the far extended coasts of Spain, 
Some islands triumph o'er the raging" main, 

Where dwelt of old as tuneful poets say- 

Slingers, who bore from all the prize away. 

"While infants yet their feeble nerves they 

try'd, 
Nor needful food, till won by art, supplied: 

Fix'd was the mark the youngster, oft in vain. 

Whirl 'd the misguided stone with fruitless pain; 
Till, by long practice, to perfection brought, 
With easy slight their former task they wrought. 
Swift from their arm th' unerring pebble flew, 
And, high in air, the fluttering victim slew. 

M 



318 THE POLITE 

So in each art men rise by just degrees, 
And months of labour lead to years of ease. 

The Duke de Rochefoucault, who was es 
teemed the most brilliant wit in France, speak 
ing of politeness, says, That a citizen wil 
hardly acquire it at court, and yet may easily 
attain it in the camp. I shall not enter int 
the reason of this ; but offer my readers 
shorter, pleasanter, and more effectual metho< 
of arriving at the summit of genteel behaviour 
that is, by conversing with the ladies. 

Those who aim at panegyric, are wont to as 
semble a throng of glittering ideas, and then 
with great exactness, clothe them with all th 
elegance of language, in order to their making 
the most magnificent figure when they come 
abroad in the world. So copious a subject as 
the praises of the fair, may in the opinion of my 
readers, lay me under great difficulties in this 
respect. Every man of good understanding 
and fine sense, is in pain for one who has un 
dertaken so hard a task. Hard, indeed, to 
me, who, from many years study of the se 
have discovered so many perfections in them 
as scarce as many more years would afford m 
time to express. However, not to disappoin 
my readers, or myself, by foregoing that plea 
sure I fell in doing justice to the most amiable 
part of the creation, I will indulge the natural 






PHILOSOPHER. 219 

propensity I have to their service ; and paint, 
though it be but in miniature, the excellencies 
they possess, and the accomplishments which, 
by reflection, they bestow. 

As when some poet, happy in the choice 
Of an important subject, tunes his voice 
To sweeter sounds and more exalted strains, 
Which, from a strong reflection, he attains— 
As Homer, while his heroes he records, 
Transfuses all their fire into his words ; 
So we, intent the charming" sex to please, 
Act with new life and an unwonted ease ; 
Beyond the limits of our genius soar, 
And feel an ardour quite unknown before. 

Those who, from wrong ideas of things, have 
forced themselves into a dislike of the sex, 
would be apt to cry out, where would this fel- 
low run ? Has he so long studied women, and 
does he not know what numbers of affected 
prudes, gay coquettes, and giddy impertinents, 
there are amongst them ! — Alas ! gentlemen, 
what mistakes are these ? How will you be 
surprised, if I prove to you that you are in the 
same sentiments with me ; and that you would 
not have so warm resentments at these pecca- 
dilloes, if you did not think the ladies more than 
mortal. 

Are the faults you would pass by in a friend, 
and smile at in an enemy, crimes of so deep 
a dye in them as not to be forgiven ? And can 



220 THE POLITE 

this flow from any other principle than a per- 
suasion that they are more perfect in their na- 
ture than we, and their guilt the greater, there- 
fore, in departing, even in the smallest degree, 
from that perfection ? Or can there be a grea 
ter honour to the sex than this dignity, which 
even their enemies allow them, to say, Truth, 
virtue, and women, owe less to their friends 
than to their foes ? Since the vicious, in both 
cases, charge their own want of taste on the 
weaknesses of human nature; pursue grosser 
pleasures, because they are at hand, and ne- 
glect the more refined, as things of which their 
capacities afford them no ideas. 

ISorne with a servile gust to sensual joy, 
Souls of low taste the sacred flame destroy ; 
By which, allied to the ethereal fire, 
Celestial views the hero's thoughts inspire ; 
Teach him in a sublimer path to move, 
And urge him on to glory and to love : 
Passions which only give a right to fame, 
To present bliss, and to a deathless name. 
"While those mean wretches, with just shame o'er- 

s pre ad, 
Live on unknown — and are, unheard of, dead. 

Mr. Dry den, who knew human nature per- 
haps as well as any man that ever studied it, 
has given us a just picture o the force of fe- 
charras in the story of Cymon and Iphi- 






PHILOSOPHER. 22i 

genia. Bocace, from whom he took it, had 
adorned it with all the tinsel finery an Italian 
composition is capable of. The English poet, 
like most English travellers, gave Stirling sil- 
ver in exchange for that superficial gilding ; 
and bestowed a moral where he found a tale. 
He paints, in Cymon, a soul buried in a con- 
fusion of ideas, inflamed with so little fire, as 
scarce to struggle under the load, or afford 
any glimmerings of sense. In this condition, 
he represents him struck with the rays of Iph- 
igenia's beauty. Kindled by them, his mind ex- 
erts its powers, his intellectual faculties seem 
to awake ; and that uncouth ferocity of man- 
ners by which he had hitherto been distinguish- 
ed, gave way to an obliging behaviour, the na- 
tural effect of love. 

The moral of this fable is a truth which can 
never be inculcated too much. It is to the 
fair sex we owe the most shining qualities of 
which ours is master ; as the ancients insinu- 
ated, with their usual address, by painting both 
the virtues and graces as females. Men of 
true taste feel a natural complaisance for wo- 
men whom they converse with, and fall, 
without knowing it, upon every art of pleasing ; 
which is the disposition at once the most grace- 
ful to others, and the most satisfactory to our- 
selves. An intimate acquaintance with the 






gSS THE POLITE 

other sex, fixes this complaisance into a habit; 
and that habit is the very essence of politeness. 

Nay, I presume to say politeness can be no 
other way attained. Books may furnish us 
with right ideas ; experience may improve 
our judgments; but it is the acquaintance of the 
ladies only which can bestow that easiness of 
address, whereby the fine gentleman is distin- 
guished from the scholar and the man of busi- 
ness. 

That my readers may be perfectly satisfied 
in a point which I think of so great importance, 
let us examine this a little more strictly. 

There is a certain constitutional pride in 
men, which hinders them from yielding in 
point of knowledge, honour, or virtue, to one 
another. This immediately forsakes us at the 
sight of a woman. And the being accustom- 
ed to submit to the ladies, gives a new turn 
to our ideas, and opens a path to reason, which 
she had not trod before. Things appear in 
another light ; and that degree of complai- 
sance seems now a virtue, which heretofore we 
regarded as a meanness. 

I have dwelt the longer on the charms of 
the sex, arising from the perfection visible in 
their exterior composition; beca u e there is 
the strongest analogy between them and the 
excellencies which from a nicer inquiry, we 



PHILOSOPHER. gg3 

discover in the minds of the fair. As they 
are distinguished from the robust make of 
man, by that delicacy expressed by nature in 
their form ; so the severity of masculine sense 
is softened by a sweetness peculiar to the fe- 
male soul. A native capacity of pleasing at- 
tends them through every circumstance of life; 
and what we improperly call the weakness of 
the sex. gives them a superiority unattainable 
by force. 

The fable of the north wind and the sun 
contending to make the man throw off his 
cloak, is not an improper picture of the speci- 
fic difference between the powers of either sex. 
The blustering fierceness of the former, in- 
stead of producing the effect at which it aimed, 
made the fellow but wrap himself up the clos- 
er ; yet no sooner did the sun-beams play, 
than that which before protected, became now 
an incumbrance. 

Just so, that pride which makes us tenacious 
in disputes between man and man, when ap- 
plied to the ladies, inspires us with an eager- 
ness not to contend, but to obey. 

To speak sincerely and philosophically, wo- 
men seem designed by Providence to spread 
the same splendour and cheerfulness through 
the intellectual economy that the celestial bo- 
dies diffuse over the material part of the crea* 



%M THE POLITE 

tion. Without them, we might indeed con- 
tend, destroy, and triumph over one another 
Fraud and force would divide the world be- 
tween them ; and we should pass our lives 
like slaves, in continual toil, without the pros- 
pect of pleasure or relaxation. 

It is the conversation of woman that gives 
proper bias to our inclinations, and, by abat- 
ing the ferocity of our passions, engages us to 
that gentleness of deportment which we style 
humanity. The tenderness we have for them 
softens the ruggedness of our own nature; and 
the virtues we put onto make the better figure 
in their eyes, keep us in humour with ourselves. 

I speak it without affectation or vanity, that 
no man has applied more assiduously than 
myself to the study of the fair sex ; and I aver 
it with the greatest simplicity of heart, that I 
not only found the most engaging and most 
amiable, but also the most generous and most 
heroic qualities amongst the ladies ; and that I 
have discovered more of candour, disinterest- 
edness, and favour, in their friendships, than 
in those of our own sex, though I have been 
very careful, and particularly happy in the 
choice of my acquaintance. 

My readers will, I dare say, observe, and 
indeed I desire they should, a more than ordi- 
nary zeal for inculcating a high esteem of, 



PHILOSOPHER. 225 

and a sincere attachment to, the fair. What 
I propose from it is to rectify certain notions, 
which are not only destructive of all politeness, 
but at the same time detrimental to society, 
and incompatible with the dignity of human na- 
ture. These have, of late years, spread much 
among those who assume to themselves the 
title of fine gentlemen ; and in consequence 
thereof, talk with great freedom of those from 
whom they are in no danger of being called 
to an account. There is so much of base- 
ness, cowardice, and contempt of truth, in this 
w r ay of treating those who are alone capable of 
making us truly and rationally happy, that to 
consider the crime, must be sufficient to make 
a reasonable man abhor it. Levity is the 
best excuse for a transient slip of this kind ; 
but to persist in it, is evidently descending from 
our own species, and, as far as we are able, 
putting on the brute. 

Fram'd to give joy, the lovely sex are seen ; 
Beauteous their form, and heavenly in their mien, 
Silent they charm the pleas'd beholder's sight ; 
And speaking, strike us with a new delight : 
Words, when pronounced by them, bear each a 

dart, 
Invade our ears, and wound us to the heart. 
To no ill ends the glorious passion sways ; 
By love and honour bound, the youth obeys ; 
Till by his service won, the greatful fair 



226 THE POLITE 

Consents in time, to ease the lover's care ; 
Seals all his hopes ; and in the bridal kiss, 
Gives him a title to untainted bliss. 

I choose to put an end to my lecture on po- 
liteness here, because having spoke of the la- 
dies, I would not descend again to any other 
subject. In the current of my discourse, I have 
taken pains to show the use and amiableness 
of that art which this treatise was written to re- 
commend; and have drawn, in as strong co- 
lours as I was able, those solecisms in beha- 
viour, which men, either through giddines or 
a wrong turn of thought, are most likely to com- 
mit. 

Perhaps the grave may think I have made 
politeness too important a thing, from the 
manner in which I have treated it : Yet if they 
will but reflect, that a statesman in the most 
august assembly, a lawyer of the deepest ta- 
lents, and a divine of the greatest parts, must, 
notwithstanding, have a large share of polite- 
ness, in order to engage the attention and bias 
the inclination of his hearers, before he can 
persuade them ; they will be of another opin- 
ion, and confess, that some care is due to ac- 
quire that quality which must setoff all the rest. 

The gayer part of my readers may probably 
find fault with those restraints which may re- 
sult from the rules I have here laid down. But 



PHILOSOPHER. 2%7 

t would have these gentlemen remember, that 
L point out a way whereby, without the trou- 
ble of study, they may be enabled to make no 
ilespicable figure in the world ; which, on ma- 
ure deliberation, I flatter myself, they will 
hink no ill exchange. The ladies will, I hope, 
'epay my labours, by not being displeased with 
his offer of my service, and thus having done 
ill in my power towards making folks agreeable 
o one another, I please me with the hope of 
laving procured a favourable reception formy- 
ielf. 

When gay Patronius, to correct the age, 

Gave way, of old, to his satyric rage ; 

The motly form he for his writing's chose, 

And chequer' d lighter verse with graver prose. 

When with just malice, he design'd to show 

How far unbounded vice at last would go ; 

In prose we read the execrable tale, 

And see the face of sin without a veil. 

But when his soul by some soft theme inspir'd, 

The aid of tuneful poetry requir'd, 

His numbers with peculiar sweetness ran, 

And in his easy verse we see the man ; 

Learn'd without pride ; of taste correct — yet 

free 
Alike from niceness and from pedantry ; 
Careless of wealth yet liking decent show, 
In fine, by birth a wit, by trade a beau. 
Freely he censur'd a licentious age, 
And him I copy, though with chaster page ; 



228 POLITE PHILOSOPHER. 

Expose the evils in which brutes delight, 
And show how easy 'tis to be polite ; 
Exhort our erring youth — to mend in time, 
And lectures give, for memory's sake in rhyme, 
Teaching this art to pass through life at ease, 
Pleas'd in ourselves, while all around we please. 



THE WAY TO WEALTH, 



WRITTEN BY 



DR. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 



Courteous Reader, 
I have heard that nothing gives an author 
so great pleasure as to find his works respect- 
fully quoted by others. Judge, then, how 
"nuch I must have been gratified by an incident 
! am going to relate to you. I stopped my 

Iiorse lately, where a great number of people 
vere collected at an auction of merchants 
roods. The hour of sale not being come, they 
vere conversing on the badness of the times ; 
.nd one of the company called to a plain, clean, 
>ld man, with white locks, "Pray, Father Abra- 
a?)i) what think you of the times ? Will not 
hese heavy taxes quite ruin the country? How 
hall we be ever able to pay them? What would 
ou advise us to?" — Father Abraham stood up, 
nd replied, " If you would have my advice, I 
/ill give it you in short ; for, " A word to the 
rise is enough," as Poor Richard says." They 



S3 THE WAY 

ioined in desiring him to speak his mind ; and 
gathering round him, he proceeded as follows:* 

'Friend,' says he, Hhe taxes are indeed ver> 
heavy ; and if those laid on by the government 
were the only ones we had to pay, we might 
more easily discharge them ; but we have ma- 
ny others, and much more grievous to some o! 
us. We are taxed twice as much by our idle- 
ness, three times as much by our pride, anc 
four times as much by our folly : and from 
these taxes the commissioners cannot ease or 
deliver us, by allowing an abatement. Howe- 
ver, let us hearken to good advice, and some- 
thing may be done for us : « God helps them 
that help themselves," as Poor Richard says. 

I « It would be thought a hard government 
that should tax its people one-tenth part of then 
time to be employed in its service : but idle- 
ness taxes many of us much more : sloth, by 
bringing on diseases, absolutely shortens Me 
« Sloth, like rust, consumes faster than hboui 

* Dr. Franklin, wishing- to collect into one piece 
all the savings upon the following subjects whicf 
he had dropped in the course of publishing the Al- 
manac called Poor Richard, introduced Father Abra- 
ham for this purpose. Hence it is, that poor Rich- 
ard is so often quoted. Notwithstanding the stroke 
of humour in the concluding paragraph of this ad- 
dress °oor Richard [Saunders] and Father Abraham^ 
have 'proved in America, that they venocommm 
preachers. 



TO WEALTH. 231 

wears, while the used key is always bright," as 
Poor Richard says. — a But dost thou love life ? 
then do not squander time, for that is the stuff 
life is made of," s Poor Richard says. How 
much more than is necessary do we spend in 
sleep; forgetting that, "The sleeping fox etch- 
es no poultry," and " there will be sleeping 
enough in the grave," as Poor Richard says. 

" If time be of all things the most precious., 
wasting time must be," as Poor Richard says, 
"the greatest prodigality;" since, as he else- 
where tells us, " Lost time is never found agaip, 
and what we call time enough always proves 
: little enough." "Let us then be up and doing, 
and doing to the purpose : so by diligence 
we shall do much with less perplexity. — 
" Sloth makes all things difficult, but industry 
all easy; and he that riseth late, must trot all 
day, and shall scarce overtake his business at 
night; while laziness travels so slowly, that po- 
verty soon overtakes him. Drive thy business, 
let not that drive thee; and early to bed, and 
early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, 
and wise," as Poor Richard says. 

1 So what signifies wishing and hoping for 
3etter times; we may make these times better, 
f we bestir ourselves. " Industry need not 
vish; and he that lives upon hope will die fast- 
ng. There are no gains without pains; then 
lelp, hands, for I have no lands;" or, if I have 



232 THE WAY 

they are smartly taxed. " He that hath a trade, 
hath an estate ; and he that hath a calling, hath 
an office of profit and honour/! as Poor Rich- 
ard says ; but then the trade must be worked 
at, and the calling well followed, or neither the 
estate nor the office will enable us to pay our 
taxes. If we are industrious we shall never 
starve ; for, " At the working man's house 
hunger looks in, but dares not enter." Nor 
will the bailiff or the constable enter ; for, 
" Industry pays debts, while despair increased! 
then) 3 ' What though you have found no trea- 
sure, nor has any rich relation left you a lega- 
cy, " Diligence is the mother of good luck, 
and God gives all things to industry. Then 
plough deep, while sluggards sleep, and you 
shall have corn to sell and to keep." Work 
while it is called to-day, for you know not how 
much you may be hindered to-morrow\ u One 
to-day is worth two to-morrows," as Poor Rich- 
ard says ; and farther, " Never leave that till 
to-morrow, which you can do to-day. — If you 
were a servant, would you not he ashamed that 
a good master should caich you idle ? Are you 
then your own master ? Be ashamed to catch 
yourself idle, when there is so much to be 
dene for yourself, your family, your country, 
and your king. Handle your tools without mit- 
tens ; remember, that " The cat in gloves 
catches no mice," as Poor Richard says. It is 



TO WEALTH. 233 

true there is much to be done, and, perhaps, 
) T ou are weak- handed ; but stick to it steady, 
and you will see great effects ; for, " Constant 
dropping wears away stones; and by diligence 
and patience, the mouse ate in two the cable ; 
and little strokes fell great oaks." 

" Meihinks I hear some of you say, " Must 
a man afford himself no leisure ?" I will tell 
thee, my friend, what poor Richard says : 
" Employ thy time well, if thou meanest to gain 
leisure ; and, since thou art not sure of a min- 
ute, throw not away an hour." Leisure is 
time for doing something useful ; this leisure 
the diligent man will obtain, but the lazy never; 
for, " a life of leisure and a life of laziness are 
two things. Many without labour would live 
by their wits only, but they break for want of 
stock; whereas industry gives comfort, and 
plenty, and respect. " Fly pleasures, and they 
will follow you. The diligent spinner has a 
large shift ; and, now I have a sheep and a 
cow, every body bids me good- morrow." 

II. u But with our industry we must like- 
wise be steady, settled and careful, and oversee 
our own affairs with our own eyes and not trust 
too much to others ; for, as Poor Richard says* 

" I never saw an oft-removed tree, 
" Nor yet an oft-removed family, 
" That throve so well as those that settled be." 
O 



234 THE WAY 

< And again, "Three removes are as bad as 
a fire ;" and again, "Keep thy shop, and thy 
shop will keep thee ;" and again, " If you 
would have your business done, go ; if not, 
send." And again, 

" He that by the plough would thrive, 
" Himself must either hold or drive." 

c And again, " The eye of the master will 
do more work than both his hands ; and again, 
" Want of care does us more damage than the 
want of knowledge ;" and again, " Not to 
oversee workmen, is to leave them your purse 
open." Trusting too much to others' care is the 
ruin of many ; for, in the affairs of this world, 
men are not saved by faith, but by the want of it; 
but a man's own care is profitable ; for, " If 
you would nave a faithful servant, and one that 
you like, serve yourself; a little neglect may 
breed great mischief : for want of a nail, the 
shoe was lost ; for want of a shoe, the horse 
was lost ; and for want of a horse, the rider 
was lost," being overtaken and slain by the en- 
emy; all for want of a little care about a horse- 
shoe nail. 

III. " So much for industry, my friends, and 
attention to one's own business : but to these 
we must add frugality, if we would make our 
industry more certainly successful. A man 






TO WEALTH 235 

may, if he knows not how to save as he gets, 
" keep his nose all his life to the grindstone, and 
die not worth a groat at last. A fat kitchen 
makes a lean will. 55 

" Many estates are spent in getting", 

" Since women for tea forsook spinning and knit- 
ting," 

" And men for punch forsook hewing' and split- 
ting." 

" If you would be wealthy, think of saving as 
well as of getting. The Indies have not made 
Spain rich, because her out-goes are greater 
than her in-comes." 

" Away, then, with your expensive follies, 
and you will not then have so much reason to 
complain of hard times, heavy taxes, and 
chargeable families ; for, 

" Women and wine, game and deceit, 

" Make the wealth small and the want great." 

< And farther, "What maintains one vice 
would bring up two children." You may think, 
perhaps, that a little tea, or a little punch now 
and then, diet a little more costly, clothes a lit- 
tle finer, and a little entertainment now and 
then, can be no great matter ; but remember, 
" Many a little makes a mickle :" beware of 
little expenses; "a. small leak will sink a 



336 THE WAY 

great ship, 55 as Poor Richard says ; and again, 
" Who dainties love, shall beggars prove ; 55 
and moreover, "Fools make feasts, and wise 
men eat them. 55 Here you are all got togeth- 
er to this sale of fineries and nicknacks. You 
call them goods ; but, if you do not take care, 
they will prove evils to some of yon. You ex- 
pect they will be sold cheap, and perhaps they 
may for less than they cost ; but if you have 
no occasion for them, they must be dear to 
you. Remember what Poor Richard says, 
u Buy what thou hast no need of, and ere long 
thou shalt sell thy necessaries. 55 And again, 
" At a great penny worth pause a while. 5 ' He 
means, that perhaps the cheapness is apparent 
only, and not real ; or the bargain, by straiten- 
ing thee in thy business, may do thee more 
harm than good. For in another place be says, 
cc Many have been ruined by buying good pen- 
ny-worths. 55 Again, "It is foolish to lay out 
money in a purchase of repentance ;" and yet 
this folly is practised every day at auctions, for 
want of minding the Almanack. Many a one, 
for the sake of finery on the back, has gone 
with a hungry belly, and half- starved their fam- 
ilies ; " Silks and satins, scarlets and velvets, 
put out the kitchen-fire, 55 as Poor Richard says. 
These are not the necessaries of life, they can 
scarcely be called the conveniences ; and yet, 
<*n!y because they look pretty, how many want 



TO WEALTH. 237 

to have them ! By these and other extravagan- 
ces, the genteel are reduced to poverty, and 
forced to borrow of those whom they formerly 
despised, but who, through industry and frugal- 
ity, have maintained their standing ; in which 
case it appears plainly, that " A ploughman 
on his legs is higher than a gentleman on his 
knees," as Poor Richard says. Perhaps they 
have had a small estate left them, which they 
knew not the getting of ; they think " It is day, 
and will never be night ;" that a little (" r » be 
spent out of so much is not worth minding ! but 
" Always taking out of the meal-tub, and nev- 
er putting in, soon comes to the bottom," as 
Poor Richard says ; and then, "When the well 
is dry, they know the worth of water." But 
this they might have known before, if they had 
taken his advice ; " If you would know the 
value of money, go and try to borrow some ; 
for he that goes a borrowing goes a sorrowing,'' 
as Poor Richard says ; and, indeed, so does he 
that lends to such oeople, when he goes to get 
it in again. Poor Dick farther advises and says, 

<s Fond pride of dress is sure a very curse ; 
u Ere fancy you consult, consult your purse." 

i An:l again. " Pride is as loud a beggar as 
want, and a great deal more saucy." When you 
have bought one fine thing, you must buy ten 



g3S THE WAY 

more, that your appearance may be all of a 
piece ; but Poor Dick says, " It is easier to 
suppress the first desire, than to satisfy all that 
follow it ;" and it is as truly folly for the poor 
to ape the rich, as for the frog to swell in order 
to equal the ox. 

" Vessels large ma}- venture more, 

" But little boats should keep near shore." 

" It is, however, a folly soon punished ; for, 
as Poor Richard says, " Pride that d'nes on 
vanity sups on contempt : — Pride breakfasted 
with Plenty, dined with Poverty, and supped 
with Infamy." And after all, of what use is 
this pride of appearance, for which so much is 
risked, so much is suffered ? It cannot pro- 
mote health, nor ease pain : it makes no in- 
crease of merit in the person; it creates envy, 
it hastens misfortune. 

" But what madness must it be to run in 
debt for these superfluities ? We are offered, 
by the terms of this sale, six months credit ; 
and that, perhaps, has induced some of us to 
attend it, because we cannot spare the ready 
money, and hope now to be fine without. But, 
ah ! think what you do when you run in debt ; 
you o;ive another nower over your liberty ; if 
you cannot pay at the time, you will be asham- 
ed to see your creditor ; you will be in fear 



TO WEALTH. 239 

when you speak to him ; you will make poor, 
pitiful, sneaking excuses, and by degress come 
to lose your veracity, and sink into base down- 
right lying ; for, " The second vice is lying, 
the first is running in debt," as Poor Richard 
says ; and again, to the same purpose, "iky- 
ing rides upon Debt's back : whereas a free- 
born Englishman ought not to be ashamed or 
afraid to see or speak to any man living. But 
poverty often deprives a man of all spirit and 
virtue. " It is hard for an empty bag to stand 
upright." What would you think of that 
prince, or of that government, who should issue 
an edict forbidding you to dress like a gentle- 
man or gentlewoman, on pain of imprisonment 
or servitude ? Would you not say that you 
were free, have a right to dress as you please, 
and that such an edict would be a breach of 
your privileges, and such a government tyran- 
nical ? And yet you are about to put yourself 
under that tyranny, when you run in debt for 
such dress ! Your creditor has authority, at 
his pleasure, to deprive you of your liberty, by 
confining you in jail for life, or by seihng you 
for a servant, if you should not be able to pay 
him. When you have got your bargain, you 
may, perhaps, think little of payment ; but, as 
Poor Richard says, u Creditors nave better 
memories than debtors ; creditors are a super- 
stitious sect, great observers of set days and 



§40 THE WAY 

times." The day comes round before yc 
are aware, and the demand is made before yi 
are prepared to satisfy it ; or, if you bear you 
debt in mind, the time, which at first seemf 
so long-, will, as it lessens, appear extremely 
short. Time will seem to have added wine • 
to his heels as well as his shoulders. " Those 
have a short Lent, who owe money to be paid 
at Easter." At present, perhaps, you may 
think yourselves in thriving circumstances, and 
that you can bear a little extravagance witho- 
injury ; but 

" For ag-e and want save while you may, 
" No morning- sun lasts a whole day." 

" Gain may be temporary and uncertain, bu 
ever while you live, expense is constant ant 
certain ; and, " It is easeir to build two chim- 
neys, than to keep one in fuel," as Poor Rich 
ard says ; so " Rather go to bed supperles? 
than rise in debt." 

" Get what you can, and what you g*et hold, 
" 'Tis the stone that will turn all \ our lead int« 
gold." 

" And, when you have got the philosopher^ 
stone, sure you will no longer complain of baa 
limes or the difficulty of paying taxes. 



TO WEALTH, 241 

IV. " This doctrine, my friends, is reason 
and wisdom. But, after all, do not depend too 
much upon your own industry, and frugality, 
and prudence, though excellent things ; for 
they may be all blasted, without the blessing of 
Heaven ; and, therefore, ask that blessing 
humbly, and be not uncharitable to those that 
at present seem to want it, but comfort and 
help them. Remember Job suffered, and was 
afterwards prosperous. 

w And now to conclude, " Experience keeps*, 
a dear school, but fools will learn in no other," 
as Poor Richard says, and scarcely in that ; 
for, it is true, " We may give advice, but we 
cannot give conduct :" However, remember 
this, " They, that will not be counselled, can- 
not be helped !" and farther, that " If you will 
not hear Reason, she will surely rap your 
knuckles," as Poor Richard says." 

Thus the old gentleman ended his har- 
angue. The people heard it, and approved 
the doctrine, and immediately practised the 
contrary, just as if it had been a common ser- 
mon ; for the auction opened, and they began 
to buy extravagantly, — I found the good man 
had thoroughly studied my Almanacs, and di- 
gested all I had dropped on these topics dur- 
ing the course of twenty-five years. The fre- 
quent mention he made of me must have tried 
any one else ; but my vanity was wonderfully 



&4& THE WAY TO WEALTH. 

delighted with it ; though I was conscious, 
that not one tenth part of the wisdom was my 
own, which he ascribed to me ; but rather the 
gleanings that I had made of the sense of all 
ages and nations. However I resolved to be 
the better for the echoof it ; and though I had 
at first determined to buy stuff for a new coat, 
I went away resolved to wear my old one a lit- 
tle longer. Reader, if thou wilt do the same, 
thy profit shall be as great as mine.— I am, a* 
ever, 

Thine to serve thee, 
RICHARD SAUNDERS. 



« is* 



318 



